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#all i know is that i look like spider man in spiderman 3
spider-man-2o99 · 1 year
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everything that miguel knows about the present day comes wholly secondhand from xina because they spent twenty years of friendship taking turns infodumping at each other over old star trek reruns. miguel doesn’t know who ben hurr is, but he heard the name from xina at some point so for the sake of the “her? / no, ben hurr!” gag, he’ll go ahead and make the reference anyways. he is not as worldly as he talks himself up to be he’s just pretentious (affectionate)
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milimeters-morales · 1 year
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Someone calling Miles “Miley” as a joke once but he realizes he likes the ambiguity over whether or not it’s a cutesy/teasing nickname for the more masculine sounding “Miles” or straight up just a new feminine name that he wouldn’t mind being called for the rest of his life
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neo-nomatrix · 11 months
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Hate the AM, Hate the PM, But love you
Hobie Brown x reader
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word count: 969
find the mini series here
tags: @maxjesty @marshallowy @sh-tposter2021 @ilovebhna @ladyagagaslefttoe
synopsis: Hobie is still a slightly infuriating neighbor, but there’s something about that jacket and guitar that are all too familiar.
a/n: DRUNK CONFESSIONS!! Part two of this fic. I wasn’t going to write another part to it but i caved 😔
You stood him up. You fucking stood him up. Hobie spent the entire show looking out into the crowd, ignoring the blinding stage lights, to try and find you. But you were nowhere to be found. He asked so nicely too! Despite his nonchalant attitude it took him so long to build up the courage to ask you out. He had dinner reservations planned, which he has obviously never done, looked up places to get a Mr.Whippy and even found a small secluded area where he could play his guitar for you.
The worst part is how it made him feel. He genuinely liked you and it hurt him to think you didn’t feel the same when he thought you did. So what was his solution? Go out with his mates to a pub until 3 am to drink his feelings. Hobie was a bold drunk, bolder than he usually is. He’s also a sloppy drunk, tripping when he walks and slurring his speech like it’s all one word.
You’re peacefully sleeping in your bed with your spiderman eye mask cuddling with your Spider-Punk plushie. It’s not a random occurrence to hear Hobie stomping his boots late at night but it was different today. You heard his boot buckles dragging across the floor and a loud bang against your door. Not necessarily a knock, more of a body slumped against the wood.
“Love! You in there?!” You hear him yell.
You try your hardest to ignore him but as he keeps yelling and pounding against the wood you start to feel sorry for everyone else on your floor. You force yourself out of bed and towards the front door. As you reluctantly open it a drunken Hobie falls into your flat.
“Hobie get your arse up,” you roll your very tired eyes.
He surprisingly agrees and makes his way to your bed.
Great, you think
He tosses his guitar to your couch and gets into your bed like it’s his. Conveniently throwing the spider-punk plush off the bed. He cuddles up with your blanket and closes his eyes. You cannot let him fall asleep.
“Hobie! Hello? That is my bed. Get out!” You yell at him.
“Why’d you do it?” He whispers.
“What,” you ask, still annoyed.
“You stood me up. I asked you to come to my show and you didn’t. Why,” he asked less of a question and more of a statement.
You sigh, of course you knew that was tonight. In all honesty you don’t quite know why you didn’t go. You weren’t doing anything special and it probably would’ve been nice. But you were scared. Scared of what? You also didn’t know that, you just were.
“I… I don’t know,” you admit.
“Really hurt me, Love. I wanted to see you and take you out on a nice date,” he looked away from you.
Your heart shattered. You knew Hobie liked you but not to that extent. You thought he was just playing around with you and didn’t mean anything by it.
“I’m really sorry, Hobie. We should go out some other time, okay? My treat,” you promise.
“Nah, don’t think i’ll have the time,” He says, clearly less sad than he was a few moments ago.
“Oh yeah? Busy with what? Trying to tear down the government from the inside?” You laugh.
“Of course not, that’s for the first saturday of every month. I’ll be busy being Spiderman,” he says, cuddling closer to your blanket.
You stop immediately. Your mind goes blank, the world around you stops. You’re suddenly much more awake than you have ever been. Hobie is… no you can’t even say it. The man you’ve hated ever since you had moved in was the person you loved more than anything else? That can’t be right, he’s having a laugh. That’s gotta be it.
“I don’t believe in comedy,” you remember him saying.
Fuck. He’s not joking, is he?
“What?” you manage to get out.
“I’ll be busy, being spiderman and all. Yknow who that is right? Don’t know if you noticed but he’s- i mean I’m kinda all over your room,” he lets out a drunk giggle.
He pulls out his mask from the pocket of his jacket and handed it to you.
“See?”
You grab it in disbelief. You run your hand over the spandex in awe. Spiderman is right in front of you, you realize.
Oh. My. God. SPIDERMAN IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.
You just can’t believe the man you’ve idolized for years was in your bed. YOUR BED.
Hobie takes the blanket off of him, lifting up his shirt to reveal his suit. Blue and fucking red material.
“I don’t believe in the labels though. It’s stupid,” He says in the most Hobie way possible.
“You’re a superhero,” you say, still a little shocked.
“No. No, don't say that. I'm not a hero, because calling yourself a hero makes you a self-mythologising, narcissistic autocrat,” He says. God even drunk he’s still a smart ass.
“So you still wanna go out?” He asks.
“What? I just found out you’re fucking Spiderman and that’s what you’re asking me? If I want to go out with you?” You respond.
“I mean what else is there to say? I already know you love me,” he nods to the spiderman memorabilia.
Even in this state he still leaves you speechless.
“Well- yeah I guess. We can go out,” you say slowly.
“Cool,” he nods.
He lifts up the blanket and scoots over, inviting you into your bed with him. You roll your eyes and get in with him. He wraps his arms around you and smiles.
“I knew you wanted to snog me from the start,” he laughs.
Hobie is still pretty infuriating, but that is slowly becoming one of your favorite things about him.
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blissfullyapillow · 5 months
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┃Genshin + HSR men as spiderman (+ your boyfriend)
₊˚⊹♡ Various x gn reader
₊˚⊹♡ wc: 7,189
₊˚⊹♡ warnings: Baizhu. Alhaitham’s part is suggestive but nothing explicit. Caelus’ part contains a ton of references to various things (one of them being your option to choose between Caelus or Stelle when you start HSR). Overall fluffy scenarios w/ your boyfriend (who is also Spiderman) :> 
₊˚⊹♡ Pillow Talks: Some parts are proofread others aren’t (for once) because I wasn’t feeling up to it. I intentionally put Baizhu under warnings it's not a mistake, I thought I was being funny doing that lol. Ngl Caelus’ part is my fav <3 !! I have a ton of drafts I’ll eventually complete, life is just a lot for me rn. I love you all ♡(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ ♡ <3
₊˚⊹♡ Masterlist
Alhaitham ✮ ๋ ࣭ ⭑ 〃
always has headphones on. Even when he’s fighting. He’s literally never seen without them
He’s been offered to do collaborations with many companies to make a model of headphones off the one’s he usually wears. He never accepts, unless it’s for his go to brand.
All villains know to leave spidey’s headphones alone. The last villain who broke his old pair didn’t make it out of the fight alive.
That wasn’t a joke.
Anyway, most people don’t ask about his headphones, rather reporters are always at their wits end since they can never get an interview out of him. Not even a brief still shot of him.
Hell, most people don’t even know what he sounds like.
For the most he’s a man of few words, but when he does speak? You’ll wish he hadn’t.
Very sassy. Has the best retorts and the most vile insults.
His suit is really cool too, and very practical.
He’s a college student when he isn’t spiderman. He’s scarily efficient at juggling his part time superhero duties along with his heavy college workload. Maybe it’s because he gets all his work done way in advance? Who knows.
He’s super gentle whenever he’s rescuing civilians. At most, he’ll say a word or two in response to their gratitude. Something along the lines of “yeah.” Or “It’s no problem” if you’re lucky. Most people don’t try to make conversation anyway. As stated before, he’s really good at dodging not only reporters but cameras in general.
So, imagine your surprise when he actually stops walking away after you’ve asked him what he’s listening to. You can’t see his face, but his spidery eyes widen comically in shock.
No one has ever asked him that before. You’d think someone would, but no one has.
So, he indulges you. “I’m not listening to anything at the moment. Sometimes I’ll have music playing, but for the most part I tend to use these just to block out noise. Plus, people tend to leave you alone when they see you have headphones on. It also makes for an adequate excuse to pretend I don’t hear people speaking to me.” Your mouth drops in pure shock at the fact that spiderman not only spoke to you, but he’s also.. very.. interesting.
Oh, he likes that look on your face. You can’t see it, but he has a huge smirk on his face underneath that mask.
Alhaitham recognized you from campus. Of course he was quick and efficient with moving you to safety before he took care of the danger, but he couldn’t return you to ground level until after the fight.
Speaking of fighting, he’s really good at it. His movements are calculated and precise. You made a mental note never to get on spider man's bad side as you watched him clock the villain square in the jaw, with no regard for whether they retain consciousness or not.
“I’ll see you around.” Is all he says now, before he web slings away. Wait, see you around? But he’s spiderman!
Little did you know that spiderman was your hot, intelligent classmate you had a raging crush on.
Lucky for you, it seems he may develop feelings for you too.
𓆩♡𓆪
“I thought I told you to leave your window unlocked? I’d hate to be spotted.” Alhaitham scolds you as you unlock your window for him, and he effortlessly slips into your abode.
“I’m sorry, but I like hearing your cute little knocks on my window. It’s the highlight of my day.” Alhaitham sighs, as if he’s annoyed, but in reality your words cause his heart to flutter.
Once he’s inside he slips off his mask and stretches his fit body. He catches sight of your lingering, fixed gaze. He smirks as he purposefully flexes his arms for you. Your head whips around, looking away as if he hadn’t caught your ogling.
“It seems like someone missed me.” His knowing words result in a click of your tongue. Yet, you find yourself melting in his warm embrace as he wraps his arms around you from behind. You’re a goner when he buries his face into the crook of your shoulder. He presses a kiss there.
As his lingering lips trail along your sensitive skin, you ask him your usual question. “What are you listening to?” He hums in contemplation as he thinks. “To the sound of your voice.” You suck in a breath, and he smiles.
That question is something of a routine between the two of you. You always ask him, ever since you learned of his identity during one of his canon events. His response will change depending on his mood, and it’s a good indicator of his current mood.
If he gives you an actual song, it’s an easy way to tell depending on the tone and meaning of the song. Otherwise, if he replies with “Nothing.” He’s either tired or on the verge of breaking. Usually it’s both, since he says the silence helps him think.
Now, if he responds with something sweet, like “The sound of your voice,” he either wants to cuddle or…
The firm press of his hand as it trails along your inner thigh is answer enough.
You feel heat warm the expanse of your body, but you pretend not to notice. “I thought you said class drained you earlier today?” You try to distract yourself with conversation. Alhaitham’s hand only travels up further. “It did. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, yet I was stuck listening to the professor droning on and on about a topic I’ve already read extensively about. Now, I can finally do what I’ve been wanting to do to all day long.” Alhaitham’s voice is rough, and his breath grazes the shell of your ear.
“Okay…” Is your eloquent response. You know if you turned around, you’d be met with that knowing smirk of his.
“Now, will you help me relax? Being spiderman is draining after all, and not being able to touch you the way you deserve all day has made me really tense.”
You have no objections when his fingers finally reach the place you’re craving it most.
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
ᐟᐟ☆ Caelus .✮𖦹‪‪ ₊˚
Radiates the most Gen Z vibes it’s insane
Up to date on everything and anything pop culture related. Whether it be old or new.
A theater went into a frenzy when fans realized spider man was in the same theater watching Five Nights at Freddy’s with them
He was upset since he had to slip out and watch the movie at home on Peacock instead.
Anyway, he’s a real sweetheart. He always makes time to stop and help older individuals cross streets, helps children find missing items, and he’ll even give some citizens a lift to a place they’re running late to.
Well, he stopped doing that last one after the incident. … That was his second canon event.
He became spider man when a woman named Kafka purposefully had a mutated spider bite him. He doesn’t recall too much before that, and he’s not sure why he can’t, but that’s a part of his journey. To discover himself and put together pieces of his past.
He still occasionally runs into Kafka and her companions, but for the most part he’s still developing his own opinion of her.
He’s a ball of energy most days. Reporters love him since he’s always so receptive and open to their questions.
Yet, he has his moments. Some nights, if you look to the right building, you’ll spot a lone figure on top, staring into the vast night sky. On those nights, he imagines a life where he travels those skies, exploring what the universe has to offer. Maybe there are other planets out there? What if he could visit them, and experience intergalactic adventures?
Oh well. Maybe in another timeline. He isn’t a nameless traveler here after all.
Unbeknownst to the both of you, you’ve bumped into each other on countless occasions when he’s in his civilian form. Actually, you two are very close friends.
He’s debated with himself many times. Should he tell you the truth? Time and time again his answer was no, and for many reasons. One, Kafka clearly has a close eye on him, and he isn’t sure of her intentions yet. Two, he doesn’t want you needlessly worrying about him. Unfortunately, you already do.
So it honestly doesn’t come as a surprise when you stumble upon him during a particularly hard moment in time, and he lets it slip that he’s spiderman and he’a struggling.
Thankfully, you’re just the support he needed.
Now, he has a safe space. A person who feels like home in a place where he truly has none. And he’s eternally grateful to you for it.
As for you, he’s your personal ray of sunshine. You’re overjoyed you can play such a prominent role in his life, and you don’t love him any less for being spider man. If anything, you somehow worry less about him…?
It’s honestly hard when you watch him overcome many impossible odds. He even accumulates new powers every now and again! He’s really strong, mentally and physically, so it eases your worries at times.
Even if he does need a shoulder to lean on, as you often do, you’re more than happy to be that shoulder for him.
Honestly, it’s a good thing he has you. His future canon events look pretty… rough. Especially the one where he meets himself from a parallel universe. You know, the one where he’s a star instead of the sky.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Oh my gosh Name look! They even have my bat in the game!” Caelus happily swivels around in his chair to look at you, frantically pointing to his pc monitor all the while.
You look at the screen, and sure enough there’s a scarily accurate model of your superhero boyfriend in the game, currently performing a silly dance move.
“Ah.. I see..” Is your response. You really think it’s cool, but you want to tease him a bit. You struggle to contain your grin when he pouts at your lack of enthusiasm. “I thought you’d think it was cool….” You can only chuckle as you run soothing fingers through his soft locks.
“I do sweetheart, I do.” Your words make him visibly light up, and he practically jumps out of his chair to wrap his arms around you.
“Speaking of, I have something else I want to show you…”
Que a fun midnight outing on top of the tallest building overlooking the whole city.
“Wow.. this is beautiful..” Your eyes shine as bright as a dying supernova as you gaze upon the beautiful landscape before you.
Caelus is beaming with pride, glad he was able to surprise you like this.
“Yeah, I stumbled upon this view after a particularly hard battle.” He hums in content as he leans back, pulling you into him.
You rest your head against him, his chest a comfortable pillow.
You can feel his steady heartbeat beneath your ear, and it’s a soothing melody.
“Thank you for sticking by me all this time.” The words are a gentle caress against the shell of your ear, yet they cause your heart to ache.
“You don’t need to thank me for that, silly. I love you, and when you love someone and they’re good for you, you stand by them. No matter what. Yeah?” You gently pat his chest.
He smiles.
“Yeah.”
He’s silent again, and a comfortable atmosphere wraps around the two of you like a warm blanket right out of the dryer.
That is, until he decides to open his mouth.
“Don’t get too comfortable. I might just push you off.”
He looks at you to gauge your reaction.
Absolute horror is written on your features.
He loves it. It sends an electrifying thrill through him; he loves to tease you too.
“You’re getting too out of hand with these jokes of-“
His lips steal the rest of your words, and you allow it.
The city paints a magical backdrop for your moment of intimacy.
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
Jing Yuan ⁞ ⟡ ⚡︎ ♡⸝⸝ 🕷 
This spider man is always accompanied by his cat, Mimi.
He rescued her during a particularly rough encounter. He tried to send her off after ensuring she was safe with authorities, but she refused to leave his side. Now, he already had a soft spot for cats, so it was a no brainer to him
Mimi has accompanied him ever since, and she even has her own little mask and everything.
Little does he know that the ‘cat’ he saved was really just another one of the smuggled exotic animals those crooks tried to sneak into the city. Mimi will no longer fit in that backpack of his in a few months time.
He’s really lazy, honestly. He calls it conserving energy, but really he will only intervene when it’s called for or if the situation is rapidly turning dire
He has many admirers. Pictures of blurry glimpses of his suit sell for hundreds, if not thousands of dollars, online
So, so many fan edits of him. And he’s seen ‘em all. He’s secretly really smug about it, but he keeps that to himself
He has a commanding presence, and an air of elegance about him. It almost feels like his fighting is an art of sorts. It’s fascinating to see the creative ways he’ll use his webs to get the job done.
Mimi has plushies, courtesy of collaboration with spiderman.
He bought the pre-orders for her plush and a few more when the official drop released
So, how did you end up with a man like Jing Yuan? Gorgeous, handsome Jing Yuan who's also a renowned general?
Simple. You're his personal alarm clock.
No. Literally. You were asked to wake him up after he fell asleep on the job again, as everyone else had grown tired of the task, and that was the beginning of an.. interesting dynamic.
The best part about it? One day you arrived a bit earlier than your usual time to wake him up, only to find the infamous spider man frantically urging Jing Yuan’s cat, Mimi, into a backpack.
Long story short, now you not only have to deal with waking him up, but you also have to deal with a clingy boyfriend who isn't afraid to his webs against you
𓆩♡𓆪
“Jing Yuan! I told you, this meeting is important and it’s imperative that-“
He blatantly ignores you as he webs the door shut, and now you’re stuck with him in his office.
“Mhm. I understand. Now come here, I miss you.” His stupid smile makes your heart race as he opens his arms, welcoming you in.
Ah, what the hell.
You all too easily bend to his whims. You quickly find yourself in his arms, snuggled against his warm body.
“That’s much better sweetheart. See? This isn’t so bad is it?” You abhor his teasing, yet all the same it sends a thrill through you.
“Shut up. I better not get in trouble because of you.” You sigh. “No one would dare say anything to you. If anyone ever does, I will personally tend to the matter.” His voice is tense, along with his statement, but all you feel is his thick hair tickling your cheek as he nuzzles his head against you.
A goofy smile spreads across your lips, and soon you forget all about the meeting as you enjoy each other’s embrace.
An adorable sound comes from Mimi, lounging somewhere in his office you assume. The usual.
“By the way, are we still on for dinner later?” Your question evoked a chuckle out of Jing Yuan.
“I wouldn’t miss dinner with you for the world.” “Not even if your spidey duties call?” Your quip causes an adorable pout to form on his lips.
“My ‘spidey duties’ can wait until I’m full and satiated. You mean more to me than you know, my sweet angel.” His words warm not only your heart, but your soul.
You completely lose track of time in his arms.
So it comes as quite a shock when obnoxious knocking can be heard on his office door. You know, the one that’s currently webbed shut?
“Jing Yuan!!”
Ah, Diviner Fu. She knows all too well that you’ve failed yet again to lure Jing Yuan out of his office.
“Ah, looks like dinner has arrived sooner than we expected sweetheart.” You squeal when he suddenly sits up with you still in his arms.
He uses his webs to grab his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder as Mimi hops in, used to this ordeal.
“Remember to hold on tight, okay?” He murmurs the words against the shell of your ear, before he slips on your own little mask over your face. Just as a precaution, though he’s really good at staying hidden whenever he’s with you.
“Off we go.”
And with that, you two sling out of the window of his office, leaving an exasperated Fu Xuan behind.
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
♡ ┃ Kaedehara Kazuha ‧.°˖➴
He is the amazing spider man
Like, he’s the ultimate spider man. He’s kind yet deadly, and very friendly.
He’s as swift as the wind, and he actually travels with a sword. You’ve never seen Spiderman incorporate sword play in with his webs? Well, you’re in luck! Kazuha does this at a masterful level. He made it into a sort of art form as well. At the end of his fights he’ll always create beautiful imagery using his sword, carving out complicated shapes and scenes with his webs. It’s kind of like a signature of his
He’s pretty good at balancing his civilian and hero life. Although he may get caught up with things if unexpected incidents occur, which lets be honest, it happens all the time when you’re spider man
He’s genuinely so sweet, and it’s easy to see through his actions. The public loves him. He has loads of admirers.
After a very traumatic incident involving a close friend of his, he experienced a period of grief and depression
He got back on his feet eventually, and he awakened new powers within him! Well, that would be the only explanation for why he was suddenly able to use electricity during combat with a particularly strong villain
Not only does he use a sword but now he has the ability to wield electricity?
Once word of spider man’s new powers spread, the number of crimes that were committed went down drastically. Literally. Statistically crime rates decreased by 25% the following week. 25%. Your usual run of the mill people were too afraid to do anything after witnessing the devastating beating Kazuha gave to a particular individual
To be fair, he was late to your date because of them. He wasted no time, defeating that villain within mere seconds before frantically webbing away to meet you
Speaking of dates, Kazuha enjoys going on many dates with you.
From indoor cozy dates to public outings, typically walks through nature, Kazuha’s favorite past time is the time he spends with you
He often leaves you handwritten notes before he leaves, ranging from eloquent poetry of his feelings for you, to short blurbs of how your eyes make it physically impossible for him to focus on what you’re saying. (He felt bad because he got lost in your eyes while you were describing your Christmas decorating plans to him)
Overall, Kaedehara Kazuha is a model spider man. Kind and caring, yet swift and fatal when the situation needs him to be.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Kazuha, I told you I forgive you already!” You giggle despite your exasperation. Kazuha disregards your statement as he places fleeting, soft kisses on your person.
He starts with your hand. He holds your hand delicately, treating you as if you’re porcelain. He places a kiss to the back of your hand before his lips slowly trail up your arm.
Your heart melts at the tender gesture, all the while your body lights aflame with his burning gaze. His piercing orbs hold your gaze as his lips make their leisure ascent.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him even if you willed it.
“I promised you I wouldn’t be late to our date this week, but I was. You have my sincerest apologies, my love.” You feel his lips move as he murmurs the words against your skin.
“No need to be all formal. We’ve been together for how long now?” You murmur the words in embarrassment, as Kazuha’s lips now brush along your neck, teasing you.
“Hmm.. if I recall correctly, today would make five years correct?” You nod your head, yet your eyes drift shut as Kazuha playfully teases the skin of your neck with his teeth.
“Y-Yeah.. so..” Your mind is blank. You completely forgot the point you were trying to make.
You have a feeling that was his goal all along.
His lips finally reach their destination; his eager lips meet your parted ones.
You groan as he draws you closer, placing a firm hand on the back of your head. His kiss almost feels a bit desperate; his lips mold with yours in perfect sync as his free hand explores the expanse of your body.
When he finally parts from you, you take desperate gasps of air. His state isn’t much better; his lidded gaze roams your body as he takes deep breaths.
“Kazuha…” “hmm?” He smiles, a lazy, slow smile, and you know you’re not letting him leave any time soon.
“I.. um.. oh! I was going to say, before you rudely distracted me..” He chuckles at that, tracing the contour of your face with a finger as you continue to scold him. “It wasn’t your fault you were late. The police force needed backup and-“ His lips capture yours again.
You reluctantly press against his chest, gently pushing him away.
You pout.
He winks at you.
“I know, but it still took away from our precious time together. I wanted to make it up to you by arriving early today, but I wasn’t able to fulfill that desire.” He sighs, and his finger moves from your face down to your neck, lower to your collarbone.
“I promise you it’s okay, Kazuha. I understand. Although, if you really want to make it up to me…” This time, your gaze is the heated one as you skillfully unravel his ponytail.
He sucks in a breath at your action. “I have another desire that you most certainly can fulfill.”
“Ah, I like the sound of that.”
Lucky for you, he is more than able to fulfill that desire of yours.
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
‧₊˚ ┊Shikanoin Heizou ⚖✮⋆˙✦
Public menace #1
He drives the police force crazy because he always solves all the cases before they can get to the bottom of it. He does so not only as spider man, but as his civilian self too.
He can be a bit of a flirt when he has the mask on.. well, ‘a bit’ is an understatement, but he doesn’t just flirt with everyone!
He really only flirts with you, honestly, yet you reject him time and time again. He was a bit puzzled, since he knows how flustered you get when he flirts with you without the mask. Maybe it’s because you don’t know it’s him? He’ll have to test that theory
Using his detective skills he quickly deduces that it was because you have a crush on him. Him. Not spider man.
He knows of your intense loyalty, so of course you wouldn’t entertain his flirting, even if the individual flirting with you is the spider man.
Once he figured that out, oh how much fun he has teasing you as spider man
He’ll use his webs to get around quickly and restrain his enemy, but in combat? He prefers to use his fists. He’s quick with it too. He’s Shikanoin ‘left, right, goodnight’ Heizou.
So, whenever he does use his webs in combat, you know he’s going against a formidable foe 
He’s super sweet to fans. Signatures, autographs, everything. On the sly though, when you still didn’t know he was spider man, he kissed an autograph he signed specifically for you before he handed it to you.
There was a visible mark left behind, and although you were annoyed you still kept the autograph (that you didn’t ask for)
When he finally revealed his identity to you, you were simultaneously livid and not surprised; You know of Heizou’s tendency to tease
He planned for the whole reveal to be super romantic and everything, and by the end of it you two became a couple.
You are the ones who create the iconic spider man kiss. He’s upside down, holding a handwritten confession of love, not a rose, that you cautiously take from his hand. In the letter he explicitly stated that spider man and the man you were currently crushing on are the same people. Following that was a very romantic declaration of his feelings for you.
When you looked up from reading the letter, you found yourself face to face with Shikanoin Heizou instead of the spider’s mask. The shock on your face was too adorable to ignore, so he kissed you whilst hanging upside down.
It was an… interesting experience, to say the least.
Would you repeat it? Absolutely.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Heizouuu….” Your whine is music to his ears.
He nuzzles his head further into your chest, and his sigh is one of contentment.
“Yesss..?” This time, you’re the one sighing, except it’s one of annoyance rather than content.
“I’ve needed to use the bathroom since five minutes ago.” “And I told you you’re welcome to. I will wait as my warm, loving arms ache for your return.” You scoff at his dramatic use of words.
“Thanks, Heizou, but how could I possibly go to the bathroom when your body is literally tangled with mine?” This question gives him pause, even though it really shouldn’t.
Said body adjusts a bit, but he makes no move to get off of you.
You’re currently lounging in bed, doing nothing really. Just enjoying Heizou’s company. It was nice until you had to use the bathroom, and with the way Heizou’s body is lying on you, legs entangled and arms wrapped around you, there’s no possible way for you to escape.
His head remains on your chest, but he looks up at you now.
“How about a deal? If you can solve this riddle-“
“Shikanoin Heizou.” 
“My apologies.”
He quickly moves off of you, and you make a beeline for the bathroom.
You’re not surprised when he’s on the other side of the door the moment you open it.
“Sometimes, Heizou, you just…” You struggle to find the words to properly express yourself.
“I just..?” He prompts you, guiding you back to the comfort of your shared bed.
You finally find the words you were searching for as you both resume your previous position, except this time Heizou’s head is buried against the crook of your neck.
“You just.. fail to surprise me, really. Which is funny, since you’re someone who’s full of them.” His body shakes against yours as he laughs at your bold statement.
“Ah, my lovely partner knows me so well. Honestly, how did a detective like me get so lucky? I believe that’s the biggest mystery of all.” His words fill you with warmth; they effectively morph your feelings of affectionate annoyance into a feeling of immense joy.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You do know I’m the one who got lucky, right?” You chuckle when he gasps, as if the very concept itself is absurd.
“I would refute that hypothesis of yours, but I believe it would only cause this conversation to continue in circles. So, I propose that we are both the luck ones. Do you agree?”
You feel his smile and hear the affection in his voice as his lips brush along your skin.
“Yeah.. I agree.” “Perfect.”
And with that, a comfortable silence fills the room once more.
It’s a relaxing evening, spent with your very loving and very dramatic boyfriend.
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
Welt Yang ﹕⸝⸝ *:・゚✮
“Wait, spider man is an old man!?” Yeah and there’s a literal dinosaur who dons the mask in another universe. Your point?
Lol jokes aside, Welt is one of, if not the most, powerful spider man. I mean, he can literally manipulate gravity.
He’s also a huge nerd.
He always brings his cane along with him when he fights, so the enemy tends to underestimate him, thinking he’s close to retirement and should just give up the whole ‘hero act’ already. Honestly, maybe he should, but that day isn’t today.
If he gets particularly annoyed by comments from his opponents, he’ll just get rid of ‘em. via a mini black hole of sorts. It’s super effective.
He’s actually very fond of making jokes and semi-horrible puns. They make you laugh though. Others? Not so much.
Anyway, he’s very reserved and he won’t stick around for reporters to interview him. He’ll just give the necessary information needed for authorities to take over, and in the blink of an eye he’s gone.
For his day job, he’s an animator. A well renowned one too. He’s very casual about it though, and he doesn’t see it as something deserving of praise.
He’s taken on a young talent who’s a blank page, in the process of writing a story of their own.
You’re the one who finds out Welt’s well kept secret. He didn’t plan on revealing his identity to you, as he felt it was his burden to bear and he would hate to make you a target.
He’s experienced many battles and has faced numerous foes, so he’s very wise and experienced. He’s faced scenarios where his morals come into play, and that’s something he’s not fond of. He rather preserve his integrity and do things in a way that aligns with his inner values. He’s been granted many opportunities to do things in an underhanded manner, yet he has never taken that  opportunity.
𓆩♡𓆪
“Please please please!” You jump up and down in innocent joy, but the man before you pinches the bridge of his nose.
“No.”
“Why not? Please! I promise this is my last time asking.” You plead with him, moving to hold onto his arm.
“That’s the exact same line you use every time.” “It is not!” You retort.
“You said the same thing yesterday.”
“Welt, please!” Now you fix him with a pleading look, a look you know he can’t resist.
“Name, my ability to manipulate gravity is a powerful one that comes with great responsibility. It shouldn’t be used as a measly… ahem..” His cheeks take on a pink hue as he coughs into his fist.
You’ve pressed yourself against him, your head tilted as you gaze at him with that look in your eyes.
“…this is the last time.” His gruff response brings you to life, your eyes alighting with joy as you remove yourself from him.
He misses the warmth of your body, but your smile provides him with a permeating warmth that is different, but comforting all the same.
“You always say that.” Your bratty response irks him. In an instant your world is flipped upside down as your feet are lifted off the floor.
“Yay! Thank you Welt.” He can’t find it in himself to be annoyed when you’re doing silly little flips as your body floats in the air.
This has become a regular occurrence for you. Occasionally, when you’re in the mood to be a bit silly, you’ll ask Welt to use his gravity manipulation to suspend you in air.
He was opposed to it, but eventually you wore him down. Now, he agrees to give you a few moments of fun, although sparingly.
His gaze is soft as he watches you enjoy the moment with childlike glee, before you’re gently lowered to the ground once more.
“There. Satisfied?” His voice is rough and his gaze won’t meet yours, but his heart pounds in his chest. You really are too cute.
“Yes! Thank you, and I’m sorry I keep pestering you about it… but… I appreciate it.” You saddle up beside him and wrap your arms around him in a grounding hug.
He smiles.
“Don’t worry about it.” Is his simple response. He presses a sweet kiss to the crown of your head, before he rests his on top of yours.
Fwip!
You glance behind you when you hear the sound, just in time to see the door to your shared bedroom close shut. Your eyes study the webs on the door handle before you swivel around to face Welt.
His cheeks are tinted pink once more, but he meets your curious gaze.
“Let’s.. enjoy each other’s company for the remainder of the day.” His words cause your own face to heat up, but a sly smirk soon presents itself on your lips.
“Can’t get enough of me, can you?” You relish the look he fixes you with, and you willingly follow his lead to your neatly made bed.
“On the contrary, with that attitude of yours I get more than my fill of you.” His words are contradictory to his actions, since he’s pulling you closer as his lips seek yours.
You smile when his lips finally meet yours.
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
‧₊˚ ┊Baizhu ⚕ *: ♥
With swift and deadly attacks that require minimal movement, Baizhu is always quick to subdue the enemy
Some days are harder than others for him, as he has a chronic illness. He still gets the job done, and he’s always advocating for others in a similar situation as him. He doesn’t reveal much to the media, but he does like to tell anyone who may hear “If I can be spiderman, then I know you can do anything you set your mind to.”
Instead of a spider biting him it was a snake. A talking snake no less. Her name is Changsheng, and she travels with him almost all the time.
Many ask to pet Changsheng. He turns down most requests but on rare occurrences he may let an individual do so (mainly children)
Has miraculous healing powers. He’s also a good sport at taking heavy hits, but he can only handle so much. Still, he’s stronger than you’d think, and he’s great at sporting others back to health. It’s almost like they were never sick at all once Baizhu tended to them. Unfortunately, his illness always seems to flair after he does so…
Speaking of, he’s well loved, Dr. Baizhu. He literally has a 5 star rating and everyone raves about him. You would think he would limit clients since he constantly gets a large influx of them, but he’s too kind to do anything of the sort.
Sometimes you have to scold him and force him to coax him into taking it easy; he tends to take on a bit more than he can handle.
He’ll say cheesy things like “You’re the remedy I’ve been searching for all my life. Most certainly.” Whenever you two are alone and spending quality time together. You can only smile when he tells you these things; He’s too cute to feign annoyance with.
He’s immune to poison. Don’t ask why he just is. (It’s totally not an added benefit of a contract he made)
𓆩♡𓆪
Your fingers gently scrub the area, and a noise akin to the sound of a satisfied cat purr is heard.
You bite your lip as you try to contain your smile, even though he wouldn’t be able to see it anyway.
You’ve finished lathering Baizhu’s hair in the floral conditioner. He allows you to finish the process of rinsing his hair, and the result is satisfactory. His hair, which now has the floral scent of the conditioner, has a renewed sheen to it.
“Your hair is gorgeous, Baizhu. Well taken care of too.” You hum, guiding him as you both move to sit down.
You sit on the couch, and have him sit in front of you on the floor.
You gently dry his hair as he leans back into you. It causes you to get a few droplets of water on your person but that’s insignificant to you.
It’s been a long time since you’ve seen your boyfriend so relaxed. He’s been overworking himself again, not only with his job as a doctor but with his spiderman man duties.
You insisted on a self care day since he has the day off, and you prayed people would stay in line today so he wouldn’t have to suit up.
It seems your prayers were answered; it’s now late evening and the orange hue of the sky is slowly morphing into a starry night sky.
The streets remain peaceful today.
A groan from Baizhu draws your attention.
He’s looking up at you with furrowed brows. “I thought I told you to stop worrying so much about me.” You ‘tsk’ at the audacity of his claim, opting to flick his forehead. It was a light flick, but he acts as if you’ve scorched him.
He hisses. He sounds like Changsheng.
You giggle.
“I know you aren’t telling me to stop worrying.” You shake your head in dismay, albeit a knowing smirk is on your lips.
“Name, I know I am not one to talk but I promise you I’ll take better care of my mental wellbeing. You have my word.” He places a comforting hand on your knee. The touch brings warmth to your skin.
“Promise?” Your voice is quiet. It sounds small. You’d be surprised if he even heard you.
You open your mouth to repeat your question, sure he hadn’t heard you, but he speaks before you can voice the question once more.
“I promise.” His statement is firm. When you look into his golden snake-like eyes, they’re full of life. Determination emanates from their intense gaze.
You believe him.
“Okay, good. I hate to see you like that, you know…” His gaze softens at the obvious concern on your face. He understands it comes from a place of love, so he only nods in understanding.
“I’m sorry sweetheart.” He reaches for your hand, still a bit wet from washing his hair, yet he places a kiss to your palm nonetheless.
With that, you resume your task.
You take your time braiding his hair. It’s relaxing, and the diffuser you have going only adds to the calm atmosphere.
As soon as you finish braiding his hair Baizhu moves. It startles you, but you’re soon put to ease when he sits beside you.
His arms wrap around you, and he rests your head on his shoulder. Your eyes fall shut as you breathe in the floral scent of his hair.
“Thank you.” He whispers the words, and you feel the soft press of his lips on your forehead. You feel the same touch on your nose, your cheek, your eyelids, until they finally press against your lips.
When he pulls away, you respond with a thank you of your own. He seems taken aback by your words, but then the sweetest smile lifts his lips.
“You are quite welcome.”
🕷🕸 ๋࣭ ⭑⛓
♡. Blade 🗡⭒⚠︎︎ ⛓°˖ 
He is the second spiderman in Caelus’s verse
He honestly feels as if the whole Spiderman role is a curse rather than a blessing, but he still plays the role nonetheless.
When he feels like it
Most people only know of Caelus as spiderman, but once Blade also took on the role there were rumors of a darker, more sinister spiderman seen webbing from building to building during the late hours of the night
Of course Caelus had to investigate said rumors, and that led to a one on one encounter with Blade and.. Kafka?
Long story short Blade begrudgingly helps Caelus out when he’s in a jam, but for the most part he keeps to the shadows and does his own thing. Whether what he does is morally ‘right or wrong’ doesn’t concern him.
He has the symbiote, Venom, and he absolutely hates it. Yet, well, here they are.
There was an incident when things got a little.. tense between Caelus and Blade. Before the situation escalated Kafka was able to get Blade under control.
Overall he doesn’t really do too much as ‘spiderman,’ but you’ll definitely have a chance at catching him beat the absolute shit out of a robber in a dark alley, their cries for help muffled as they’re eaten alive by the symbiote :D
Unfortunately for Blade, Kafka isn’t particularly fond of him eating people, due to the hassle of keeping it on the down-low. He’s supplied with massive amounts of chocolate to substitute for the people he was firmly told he can no longer consume, unless it’s a dire situation.
Blade truly sees his life as a misfortune, especially during moments where Caelus coerces him into helping him out. He’s really under no obligation to help, but something about Caelus persuades him to comply (albeit begrudgingly).
They make a great duo! Surprisingly. Like, Caelus can already be a hard hitter, when he chooses to use his bat, but add Blade into the mix? Whoever they’re fighting is not surviving that fight.
𓆩♡𓆪
Your hands slip under his shirt, cold against the warm skin of his abdomen. You trace the outline of his many scars; they feel rough against the delicate pads of your fingers. You move closer to Blade, burying your head into the crook of his neck.
You can feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest against your own; it soothes you.
He moves, his hands slipping under your shirt as well, tracing the curve of your spine.
“You really are such a handful…” He murmurs the words, quiet and emitting a gentle warmth. You shiver from his gentle touch, cold fingers leisurely teasing your skin.
You debate speaking up, to let him know you’re awake, but you quickly decide against it when he speaks once more.
“No one could compare to you. When I’m with you, I feel a warmth I haven’t felt in a long, long time…” Blade’s uncharacteristically honest words cause your heart to swell.
You struggle to contain your smile. You feel him shift closer to you, and soon a pair of surprisingly soft lips are pressed against your temple.
He remains silent now. Enjoying the peaceful atmosphere, running his hands along your skin.
“I love you too.” You finally say. He startles for a moment, and it makes you giggle. When you pull your head away from his neck you’re barely able to make out the sight of his flushed cheeks before he shoves your face back to its previous position.
He says nothing, but the smile on his face says all the things he fails to put into words.
2K notes · View notes
qtkoshi · 11 months
Note
Maybe gn!Reader and Hobie adopt a kitten and the other three (Pavitr, Gwen, and Miles) come to see the kitten? Maybe a orange kitten gn!Reader wanted to name Spunk or Spike while Hobie gave them a spike collar? Would be cute lol
i luv ur brain anon
"you got....a kitten?"
- ok ok idk if this is what u meant, but u can feel free to run this with the bubblegum reader + hobie bc i think it fits alright :-) - also get a little deep with describing relationship,, but it’s necessary for the plot ! (...) - also!!! tysm for the requests; i am very excited to get into them, but will prob wait till tmrw to release bc it is my birthday today <3 much love to you all
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──★ ˙ ̟ to the stars !
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general headcannons
alright first of all: hobie with a kitten? i’m in tears. 
i love the hc that hobie has a soft spot for cats and the fact that y’all got one together? bye.
NAPS WITH THE KITTEN JUST NESTLED BETWEEN BOTH OF YOU
this cat is gonna be SPOILED in attention i tell u rn
hobie isn’t as obvious ab it as u, but the amount of times u see him chilling with the cat just perched on his shoulder?? (why are u taking the baby swinging across the city hobie; wait a min now–)
how u got him
imagine this: ur walking past an alley and hear this small little meow; after further investigation you find this tuft of orange fur crying outside the dumpster and
now u gotta take it in what r u talking about!!
bringing him home immediately ; hobie's spidey senses prob picked up the cat's presence before you got in the door.
'baby what's that.' 'c'mon spiderman we got saving to do'
man can't even argue with you
hobie not naming the cat himself bc he doesn’t wanna enforce socio-constructed labels on an unsuspecting creature that can’t consent
u can tho.
and while you very much want to, you tell hobie you gotta think on it for a bit – it has to fit just right!! (tbh he rlly doesn’t mind the cat being nameless, but he’s kinda whipped and will kinda go with what u want if it helps give that pretty lil smile to him again)
spider-squad finding out ab him
the besties r wrapping up something with a fight and hobie’s all k gotta leave and check on the cat and the rest are like ????? 
pav absolutely floored bc how dare did u not mention this sooner hobie
'so you lot wanna come see him?' (inter-dimensional travel ensues) – also never gonna complain ab coming to hobie’s house they all think his place is dope
i’m sure we all know orange cats are fucking crazy and that does not exclude the little gremlin jumping off the walls of your flat rn
hobie ofc is smirking bc his son the cat is a little agent of chaos and he couldn’t be more proud 
you, on the other hand, are just a little tired trying to get the fucker to stay still for a second so u can put on the damn flea medicine
everybody loves him are u kidding (miles a little hesitant tho, he still has beef with the last spiderman-variant cat he met :/ ) 
“so whats its name?” miles was watching with wary eyes as the little ball of fur darted around. with a heavy (and definitely not dramatic) sigh, you walk over to the group “still haven’t picked. we just found him yesterday.”
luv the idea of hobie looking at u anytime ur in the room (stay with me now) — can’t help it u just grab all his attention, maybe stop being so lovely idk
speaking of your relationship: he has spent years battering against everything life throws at him that having your love in the palm of his hands? something to protect not in the way he does as a hero, but in the way to cherish as a person?? give the man a break, he deserves to admire you whenever he can.
anyways hobie’s looking at you before going ‘oh yea’, just grunts and pulls out this little collar with little spikes and their matching and oh my that is so cute
says he found it in some garbage, most def made the collar with some scraps like he did his own (gotta keep it cool yk)
you giddy and putting the collar on the little heathen and just all ‘omg wait a min’
promptly lifting the cat up and “THIS IS SPIKE.”
cue golf claps from the squad with some ooo’s and aah’s
more gen headcannons
remember when hobie and the cat were swinging around the city? yea he's taking that mf everywhere. puts him in his pocket like a little surprise
hobie loves to play fight with the cat
spike is the perfect mix; got hobie’s energy and your brightness it’s a win-win
i could write more but i'll stop here for now 🕸️
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autumn-hiraeth · 9 months
Note
Can I request Hobie on patrol finding his love beaten bloody in the streets but they don't know he's spiderpunk and in the chaos of him trying to figure out what happened their just "I'll be ok, but could I get an autograph for my boyfriend? You both have the same vibe and I think he'd like it"
ofc anon! 🧃 Hope you like it! <3
Hobie brown x reader
fluff and slight angst. Headcanons
a/n: you can find more here “ Hobie's masterlist”
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You know it was a bad idea to go to that political protest without Hobie. But he didn't show up so you went anyway. Your bad. Three hours later you're wailing because the pigs showed up and they weren't very nice, so that's why your lip is busted, your nose is bleeding and your face is bruised - like the rest of your body-.
But you can't even feel the pain from all the adrenaline running through your veins.
Maybe it's the adrenaline from the fight you got into with a cop or because the amazing Spider-Punk is carrying you while he asks you a lot of questions; " Who did this to you?" " what happened?" “How many fingers can ya' see?”
Hobie wants nothing more than to take you to safety as he holds you in his arms, his heart breaking when he sees you all beaten up. Once again he shouldn't have left you alone. Everything would be easier if you knew his secret identity. Right? He's blaming himself that he doesn't even realize how happy you seem to be in his arms. Your arms around his neck make him feel warm.
"Hey Spiderman" “don't talk luv, you're too weak” you frown, Jesus, he and hobie are so dramatic. "Nah, I'm fine, promise" but he doesn't believe you and you roll your eyes before saying: ""I'll be ok, but could I get an autograph for my boyfriend? You both have the same vibe and I think he'd like it"
Then he stops his walk and looks at you, your pretty face bruised, and his mouth opens in indignation at your request. "You're almost dying in my arms and you're seriously asking me that?!" your grip tightens on his neck feeling him tense.
“hey! I'm not dying, you're being so dramatic!" you sneer and he gasps indignantly " Even that's how you and my boyfriend are similar .. You two are drama queens” you point out, your head is aching, maybe that's why you can't find out on your own that your boyfriend and spider-man are the same person. Hobie laughs "luv, just lie against my chest" he asks before moving on, but you are stubborn and Hobie loves that about you (especially when you and he are in bed, it doesn't matter rn).
“I really need your autograph, Hobie is going to love it” you murmur and Spider-punk smiles.
oh, he can't wait for you to find out his secret identity.
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popquizhot-shot · 9 months
Text
EVERYTHING IS FINE- Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
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this is it. angsty asf. bittersweet ending it’s sad people. tw: infidelity. based on my most recent post. please comment i’m literally begging you and tell me how you like it<3
In the depths of your heart, you already know. Your Miguel is not yours anymore.
You remember the stolen glances between him and Dana where you pretended not to notice the palpable tension between the three of you amidst the throng of about ten other people in the house.
It was a nice dinner that you’d planned, after spending almost a week away because of your actual job as well as your little side gig that was being a part of spider society.
But fifteen minutes into the little shin-dig and you get a call from none other than your boss. Not the nice one who showed you the ropes when you first joined and provided you with hours of mentorship. The bitch that was a variant of your husband was currently floating above your watch as you glared at him in the bathroom.
“We need you.”
“Not today.”
“It’s an emergency.”
“It’s always an emergency.” you roll your eyes.
“Look this was unplanned, you think my life’s aim is to torment you?”
“Kind of.” you nod and he groans, “Give me twenty minutes.”
——
At the end of twenty minutes, you storm out of your house as quietly as you can, yes it’s an oxymoron but you’re pissed off.
At Miguel, at your husband, at yourself.
Your mother always said that you were one to pity yourself, even when every bad thing that happened was the result of your own actions. All your life you’ve disagreed, but now you think that maybe your mother was probably right.
None of this would have happened if you’d just said no. No to Dana making her way into your marriage to her guy best friend and co-worker.No to the variant of him with fangs and red eyes and No to your own urge of fucking things up because you wanted to see what happened. If maybe what your heart felt was wrong. That there was nothing wrong with you and Miguel, that he still loved you.
You let out a shaky breath and open a portal from an alleyway behind your apartment building. The purple hue reflects onto your face. No, you weren’t a spider. Just a traveller that stumped your boss and changed his perception of everything he knew about the multiverse.
The man himself nodded at you as you stepped onto the platform he was standing on, looking back to the holo of what looked like a rogue Doc Ock, Goblin and another Spiderman.
“What, now we have evil spidermen? Isn’t that breaking the canon?” you raise an eyebrow.
“That’s the thing. There’s no canon event broken. He was meant to be a villain. Yet, I’ve never heard of him, or of this universe.”
You look at him like he’s just told you that he used to be a stripper in college and all his money came from his side-gig, “I’m sorry, what? The all powerful Miguel O’Hara with the pixel suit doesn’t know of the existence of a universe?”
“You’re being real helpful right now.” he grumbles.
“Thank you, I knew you’d appreciate the help.”
——
The house is quiet when you walk in, evidently everyone has left. The kitchen has been cleaned and the lights are off.
He’d always been your biggest supporter. Always so humble even though he had a high position and a fat paycheck, always telling you to let him help you. Doing some of your work for you when you were busy.
The bedroom door creaked a little as you enter, the sound of your loves breathing makes you crack a small smile. His hulking figure curled up and moving up and down. His face slack.
God he was so beautiful.
You shed your clothes and go through your night routine as fast as you can. Brushing your teeth and scrubbing your face. Cursing the pimples that always make their way onto your forehead at the wrong time.
The mattress squeaks as you get on, slowly wrapping your hands around his body. He stirs and looks up at you, his eyes softening. He’d been drinking, you can tell. He hasn’t looked at you like this for a while.
“Hi.” his hands cup your face and you smile softly as you kiss his rough palm. Your own covering his.
“Sorry I disturbed you. Thank you for cleaning up.” your hands mirror his actions, thumbs caressing his cheekbones.
He answers you with a soft kiss. And then another. And his hands are travelling down to pull you to him. Engulfing you as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. Your hands move to play with his hair as he drifted back to sleep.
You close your eyes and pretend that everything is fine. That the lipstick stain on his shirt in the laundry basket wasn’t the same as Dana’s.
———
“Are you fucking dumb?” O’Hara seethes, as he disinfects the gash at the bottom of your neck.
“It’s just a graze, i’m fine.” you grumble, “it’s not like anyone’s gonna care if i die.”
“No, just shut your mouth. Stop talking like you’re some martyr. There are plenty of people here who would miss you.”
“Miguel, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.” you chuckle, “i get it-
“No, you don’t. actually, you don’t get it. the woman i loved died, and she’s gone and i’d do anything to have her back, and you’re so convinced that if you died your own fucking husband wouldn’t want to die too? Stop acting like you’re expendable.” his eyes glow and yours widen, “This may come as a surprise to you, but people care.”
You gulp, “Sorry.”
He grumbles under his breath as he sprays the wound with bacta so it heals faster. Apologising when you wince.
You look at his concentrated face that is focused on wrapping the bandage around your shoulder and the bottom of your neck. His face is mere inches from yours. He is the splitting image of your husband, save from the red eyes and fangs. But this close you can see the differences, his eyebrows are a tad thicker and his ears are smaller.
He is harder and his words are sharp. Your love is soft and quiet. Mean when he has to be, but kinder. More open.
More loving. Yes. He’s more loving and he loves you.
You look away and focus on the ceiling. You don’t see his eyes watching your face. Eyes filled with sadness and want.
——
“Dana, here. Have some tea.” you pour a cup for the woman sitting next to Miguel at the table. At your spot.
Is it toxic to think that maybe you want her to choke on her tea?
She’d started to carpool with Miguel a few months ago , seeing as they worked together and were on the same team, it was more efficient and made more sense.
You didn’t want to seem like a toxic wife so you nodded and agreed, because you were secure in your relationship with your husband.
“Thank you.” she says your name with a wide smile as she sips the tea, “Amazing, as always.”
“I know right, she makes amazing tea.” he smiles at her and raises an eyebrow. Dana snorts.
You look between the pair trying to hide their smiles, “Did I miss something?” an awkward smile makes its way onto your face.
“Inside joke, you wouldn’t get it. It’s a scientist thing. I don’t think your writer brain could handle it.” Dana waves you away as if you’re a fucking waiter and you bristle.
But what drives it home is that Miguel laughs out loud when she says that. His hair flops onto his forehead and Dana fixes it for him, her hands running through this hair.
You fight the urge to break a plate on her head but you know it’ll be fruitless. Because your husband will take her side.
Maybe you’re just being dramatic. Maybe the tears you’re trying to hide as you make breakfast are unwarranted and you can’t take a joke.
Everything is fine.
You call out to them from the kitchen, telling them you’re going to be late and his voice is brighter when he says, “Okay, honey.”
—————
“You okay?”
“I’m fine, boss.”
“You look dead.”
“Your eyes bags suggest the same.”
“You’re hilarious.” O’Hara smirks
“Thank you.” you take a sip of the beer he’d passed.
It was late, far past dinner time. And the both of you had taken time to go over the record of what anomalies were most common and key weaknesses in most villains.
“But seriously, are you okay?”
You gulp, “Tell me about your wife. Please.”
He blanches, and then looks at the tears welling up in your eyes.
“Well, where to begin?” he turns to face you, “She…was a writer, she had her own business. She loved sunflowers because they faced each other when the sun wasn’t in the sky.” he smiles sadly, “she was terrified of frogs and dead fish. And she hated onions. The pickiest fucking eater.” he shakes his head and chuckles.
“She sounds sweet.” you know she was variant of you, Miguel had shown you the web of life and in every universe there was version of you that made their way into his life. It was beautiful, honestly.
“She had short hair, and her smile. God, it could make anyone’s day better.” he rested his head on his hand and looked at the hologram shining in front of the both of you.
“She sounds like a dream.” you reply.
“She was.” he nods.
“Hey would you mind bringing up a live of my house?” you ask.
“Why?”
“Humour me, will you?”
He grumbles and a hologram showing your universe pops up, on the screen is your living room. And Miguel freezes when he sees the scene before him.
He sees himself kiss Dana. The version of him who is married, is kissing his co-worker. He’s taking her in his arms and nuzzling her nose. He’s pecking her cheeks and tickling her like she’s his wife.
Like he’s in love with her.
“I love you.” his voice echoes throughout the room. And Dana says it back.
His head whips to look at you. You don’t look surprised, rather, you look defeated. You breathe out like it’s a finality. Your beautiful beautiful eyes transfixed on offending scene in front of you.
Before anything else happens, he shuts it off. Immediately turning to look at your frozen form, “Hey, you with me?”
You shake your head and smile. Eyes still fixed onto where the hologram was, “I’m fine.” Tears fall down your cheeks as your mouth quivers, “I’m okay. Everyday he comes back around this time. And they carpool. I told him I’d be late today. Just after I made them tea and they laughed at an inside joke amongst themselves.”
His eyes widens, “Oh honey.” his moves to hug you and you let out an ugly sob, “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
“I knew it.” you say into his chest, “I’m so fucking stupid.”
His hand pats your back, “You’re not stupid.”
“I mean, I know i was busy, i know i wasnt always home. But I tried, i fucking tried. WHAT IS SO WRONG WITB ME?” the dam breaks and you let out a wrecked shout of agony that breaks his heart into two, “Why wasn’t I good enough?!” your body shakes violently.
“No.” he says firmly, taking your face in his hands, almost squeezing your cheeks and forcing you to looking at him, your hands fly to cover his, “ You are good enough. You are enough. Listen to me. That fucking idiot doesn’t know who he just lost.”
“But-But if i wasnt so busy-
“If he had a problem, he should’ve told you. He’s a fucking pussy.”
Your words are silenced when he shakes you once, hands still holding your cheeks, “You are the most perfect person. And the both of them will pay. I promise that, cariño.”
His arms wrap around you to engulf you as you hide your face in the crook of his neck, rapid breaths slowing. His pulse beats and you can feel the vibrations on your own skin.
You close your eyes and pretend everything is fine. Because you’re in his arms.
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cherryredstars · 3 months
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OKAY OKAY but IMAGINE
A reader who owns a cafe and this grumpy ahh Miguel always orders one specific item which usually no one buys. Reader notices the small details about this regular guy cuz well it’s MIGUEL reader has a tint crush.
One day spiderman saves the reader from thieves or something. Basically he ends up in her cafe and as a thank you the reader offers food and he just sighs instinctively picking the same dessert and muscle memory doing a trick.
Basically WHAT IM SAYING IS imagine the reader next time Miguel orders at their cafe puts a lil spider themed candy
They somehow signal him that: HAHA I KNOW WHO YOU ARE GRUMPY >:3
(Using >:3 to tell you the reader has chaotic energy.)
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: Mentions of Attempted Mugging
Summary: It simply can’t be a coincidence.
Word Count: 1.2K (Not Edited)
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There’s something mysterious about that man. 
Yes, it may have to do something with his gigantic size and almost too wide shoulders. Or the fact he always looks like he’s a second away from shoving the next person out of the way. Oh and how can you forget the part where he has only said the same seven words to you since he’s been here. Medium coffee, black. Add one of those. Then he proceeds to point at the display at the one pastry you can never sell out. No thank you’s, please’s, how are you’s. He quite literally only says those seven words and then grunts at any of your questions. He’s only ever said one extra word to you, which was his name the first time he visited because he paid in cash.
Honestly, you find him very intimidating. He’s the only reason that non-selling pastry is still available. Usually, you’d have it removed and replaced with another item. But you absolutely dread the idea of him being pissed at you for removing the only other item he gets daily. Plus, you don’t want your existence to be reduced to three words. So, it’s here to stay. You just make it in the smallest batch possible and then give the extras, along with other leftover pastries, to the local soup kitchen to give out the next day. Even then, you’re pretty sure they end up throwing away the pastry at the end of the day since no one wanted it. 
Nonetheless, it’s only right to give back to the community around you. No matter what gets eaten or not. At least they get the choice to decide if they want to try it. It’s better than throwing out all the food when you know there are people who could need it. Mondays are always the busiest days, so you make sure to make a little extra pastries and food to be able to give a pleasing amount to the kitchen. As you stuff the last of the remaining pastries into the box, you close it up and stack it on top of the first box. You pull on the handles of the bag under everything, having them securely supported for easy carry. You grab your canvas bag from the backroom, checking your prep in the fridges and freezers one last time before getting ready to leave. You grab the bag of pastries as you make your way to the back door, once again thankful that you don’t have to lock it since it’s not accessible from the outside. 
As you begin to walk down the small stone steps and out of the small indent on the street, something behind you rattles. You jump slightly, hand tightening on the bag as you turn around quickly. The hairs on the back of your neck stand as you squint into the darkness, trying to spot something. You slightly relax as nothing seems out of the ordinary. Perhaps it was a stray cat or even a mouse. The thought makes you scrunch up your nose and you begin to turn around again so you can make it to the shelter before it closes its doors for the night. 
You instantly scream as you come faced to face with a man in a ski mask. He instantly covers your mouth, pushing you against the back door. You almost trip as you’re forced to walk up the steps and your body tenses as it hits the door. You feel something cold and metallic against your side, eyes widening as you attempt to look down. It’s hard with his hand covering part of your face and it takes him shaking you and slightly banging your head against the door to realize he’s speaking to you about money and jewelry. You can feel your hands trembling, tears welling up. You almost want to sob and yell when you notice another figure approaching behind the man. 
Oh how perfect, there’s two.
But you’re surprised when the figure grabs the man’s shoulder, revealing the almost shiny blue and red of a familiar costume. The man is quickly yanked off of you, and you take a sharp inhale now that your mouth is uncovered. You watch the commotion with wide eyes as the figure- as Spiderman- quickly disarms the mugger and pulls out makeshift handcuffs. The man struggles in them as he sits at the hero’s feet. Spiderman makes no notice to him, instead focusing on a floating screen as he reports the incident via an anonymous tip for the police station. 
You’re still struggling to wrap your mind around what just happened when the Spider turns to you, “You okay?”
You blink rapidly, nodding almost numbly, “Uh, yeah… I think. Thank you.”
He gives you a grunt and if you had a clearer mind, you might have recognized it. As the hero turns to leave you call out. He lets out another grunt of displeasure, but you pay little attention to it as you set the pastry bag down and pull out the box from the top. 
“Take one. They’re leftovers from today, but they’re still good. Consider it my thank you.”
You open the box and peer inside of it as you present it to him. It’s full of small sandwiches, a few different flavors of bread slices, and in the corner there are few of Miguel’s usual pastries. You expect the spider to go for one of the sandwiches, but your eyes widen as he takes three of Miguel’s pastry. You stare at the spot they had been in the box before staring at the hero. There is simply no way.
Your eyes study the hero, taking in his build for the first time. Enormous height and wide shoulders. Same posture and same pastry. Surely, it couldn’t be a simple coincidence. You slowly close the box, holding the sides of it tightly as the hero starts to deport. You stare after him in astonishment, even as the sound of police cars start sounding and two officers rush into the alley to find the tied up mugger and you. 
There is simply no way.
You show up early the next day to the bakery. You take care making everything, letting them cool slightly before putting them in the display cases. Once the doors open, the usual morning rush spews in, and you spend the next two to three hours serving customers. As per usual, he comes right as the morning rush ends, and you feel a giddiness as he walks up to the counter. 
“Medium coffee, black. Add one of th-” You smile widely when he pauses.
His eyes are trained to his pastry. Today it looks different. In the center of the flakey dough there is a cut out of a spider, revealing the filling inside. He squints at it, leaning his face closer to the glass to view it. When he looks up to you, he can see the knowing glint in your eyes and the teasing smirk on your face. He sighs, something between displeased and amused before he stands up straight again. 
“Add one of those.” He finishes his previous sentence, pulling out his card to pay. 
“Sure thing,” You smile, approving the transaction before turning around and getting started on his coffee. “...Spiderman.”
From the grunt behind you, you know he heard.
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i-cant-sing · 10 months
Note
Ok. Ok. HEAR ME OUT. Miguel hanging out with reader (shes chained to the chair) and feeding her (shoving food down her throat) bc she mentioned she hadn't eaten anything while Miguel was out handling business (beating up a child)
Ommg yess but like imagine reader being a spider person and unbeknownst to her, Miguel has grown really fond of her, seeing her as his own daughter and so he... dotes on you. Look, his family loss is still fresh, so he has this abundance of platonic love that he just needs to pour and you are luckily (or not) that person.
And papa Miguel is like trying so hard not to show that he cares about your well being, but HE DOES and he's always worried about you and he just wants to pull u out of the field and tell u its too dangerous for u to be spiderman, but he doesn't wanna say it because then he'll have to explain his concern for u and I've already told u guys that he's an emotionally crippled father who cant say "I love you" but their actions always scream out the words.
So, he thinks its best to just take care of you as best as he can without arousing suspicion from you or pulling u out of the field (cause he knows u love being a hero). He makes you food(mostly mexican because everything else doesn't have enough spice and it doesnt matter if u cant handle spice, you will LEARN to), okay? I mean good, homecooked meals, 3 times a day and he expects you to eat breakfast and dinner(ofcourse u have a curfew) with him. But lunches? well, since you're always on missions during lunch time, he packs u up some food for u to take and he always checks your bento box (ALSO SPIDERMAN THEMED OBV) but perhaps this one day, you forgot to or didnt want to take your lunch along (a very tasty burrito) and when Miguel sees your lunch in his kitchen, he is LOSING it all. My man here is making himself go crazy(ier) by overthinking the worst possible scenarios (because this is unusual behavior in his textbook) and he sends a sort of AMBER alert on your ass because you're not answering his calls/texts(cause ur busy fighting bad guys) and Miguel just sends the ENTIRE spider society to find where you are and bring you home ASAP. Obv the spider society follows his orders to bring you because he's boss man and he probably has some important reason to drag ur ass home and not because papa's heart cant handle that his baby missed lunch???
Omg can you imagine reader finally finishing tying up the bad guys and now stops by a pizza place to grab a slice and girl looks outside to see 100 spidermans swinging around, all coming her way. These guys all shoot enough webs until you were practically cocooned in them and perfectly immobilised, and then they all open up the portal to deliver u to Miguel.
And Miguel just shoos them all away before he begins to free u from the webs and asks where u were, what happened, did the bad guys hurt u, were u kidnapped.
"Yeah-" you pulled the webs out of your hair. "-by your men!" And Miguel explains that he sent them after you because he thought something bad happened to u.
"Why would you think that?"you inquired.
Because you forgot your lunch at home. No, he cant say that.
"I- my spider senses were telling me to. I guess they were wrong." Now before you could ask more questions, he changes the topic. "Anyways, you must be hungry. Lets eat lunch-"
"No, I actually ate a slice of pizza before I was brought here-" you start but Miguel glares at you as he pulls out a dish of enchiladas from the oven, placing it in front of you.
"You will eat. You're hungry."
"I'm actually not. Like I was saying-" but he glares at you again, piling up your plate with enchilidas.
"I wasn't asking, mija." He hands you the utensils, red eyes piercing you. "You are hungry, and you will eat. Now."
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ghost-with-a-teacup · 10 months
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Okay okay, hear me out.
A bantery sort of annoying best friend trope with Miguel O'Hara. Like, hes stubborn, but reader is just as stubborn and hard headed. So like, on a mission Miguel is like "Why werent you paying attention?" and SpiderPerson!Reader is like "You're a very distracting man." And then like, the classic upside down Spiderman kiss. Apologies if this is a mess, the brainrot is real.
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𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Warnings: None, just some good ol' fluff paired alongside some classic best friends to lovers. You know the dealio :3
It wasn’t easy being best friends with Miguel O’Hara.
He was stubborn, stoic, annoying, always thought he was right, and incredibly grumpy (almost all the time! It must be exhausting) amongst many other things. But all those things made him who he was, alongside the kindness and care he has for everyone, hidden behind that Spider-Society leader guise.
It wasn’t easy, but he was your best friend just as you were his. Your favourite person amongst the millions of people on this planet, and the billions upon trillions of people in the multiverse.
But it was even more difficult when you had the biggest raging crush on him. You felt like a little teenager, lost in the vastness of your own heart that quickly grew more and more fond of the person you loved with each day that passed.
Your feelings made you act silly and lovesick (and you knew damn well he noticed, he just never said anything about it), but they weren’t going anywhere for the time being so here they stayed.
They weren’t too great during missions though.
~
“Hey, Miguel~,” you say, sidling up to him with a stupid grin on your face. He stops you with a palm on your face, not allowing you to get too close.
“Ugh, what-?” he says, pulling his hand back in disgust. “Did you just lick me?!”
“Don’t put your hand in front of my face then, you should know by now the consequences of that,” you say with a tsk, before bursting into laughter at his expression.
“Unfortunately,” he sighs, rubbing it onto your suit. “Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?” you say, pretending to be confused.
“What do you mean what- The mission? Are you ready for the mission we’re supposed to be going on in the next minute,” he huffs incredulously.
“Obviously, Miguel,” you snort. “How long have we been doing this job? Have you so little faith in me?” you ask.
“Yes,” he deadpans, and you gasp.
“How dare you?” you say, pressing a hand to your chest in offence.
“You are the most dramatic person I know,” he says, glancing over toward you as he programs the watch to the universe you were both headed to.
“You love me,” you say in turn.
“Unfortunately,” he says, and you grin widely.
“Awwww, Miguel~,” you say, pulling him into a hug that he hesitantly returns (though you knew he loved hugs, he would just rather die than admit it).
“Alright, alright,” he says pulling away. “Focus up, we need to be on our A-game for this guy.”
“Aye, aye, captain! Lead the way,” you say, and he rolls his eyes but can’t quite conceal the smile on his face at your antics before his mask reforms on his face.
Together you both make your way through the portal, getting transported past thousands of worlds in mere seconds before arriving at the one with the anomaly.
“Oh, cool~,” you say with a childlike wonder. Around you is a world that looked like it came straight out of a painting, everything looking almost acrylic in nature and beauty.
“You saw this in the briefing,” he says to you but looks around himself with a sort of wonder.
“A picture on a screen is entirely different from seeing something like this in real life, Miguel,” you retort, still looking around in awe. Looking down at your own form, your costume was blended in splotches of your iconic colours, like you had walked right out of a portrait.
He doesn’t say anything to that, instead patting your head once before walking away toward the mission site.
“C’mon. The faster we finish up, the sooner we can head back. We can have a movie night back at my place, yeah?” he says, and you perk up immediately before running after him.
“That sounds perfect, ‘cause I baked too many cookies that I don’t know what to do with,” you say embarrassed, knowing full well that you had baked them for him. He always did love your baking.
You notice the side of his mask shifts upward slightly, a telltale sign that he was happy even with the mask concealing most of his expressions but you don’t say anything, only smiling softly to yourself.
“Lyla, do a full sweep of the building before we head in. I don’t want any surprises,” he calls out, and the AI pops up immediately.
“Ugh, so bossy,” she says, and you snort.
“You could say that again,” you say in turn, while Miguel only sighs.
“Are you two done insulting me yet?” he says, and you turn to face him, walking backwards as you do.
“Never!” you say, before you’re snatched off of the ground with a yelp. He calls out your name, immediately swinging in after you.
“NOT COOL DUDE,” you shout to the villain who had his tentacles wrapped around your waist, dangling you upside down as she stuck to the ceiling. “Shouldn’t you be in the sea, doing…whatever octopuses do?”
“This seems a lot more fun,” the villain says, her voice a gurgling sort of low tone that sounds much more ominous than it should.
You shoot your webs out onto the ceiling, trying to pull yourself up and out of her grasp to no avail, her hold too strong.
Bit by bit her hold continued to tighten, inhibiting your ability to breathe.
“H-hey, we can talk about this right?” you gasp out, but before you know it Miguel was flying up toward you.
He looked so serious and intent on getting you out, his muscles flexing as he held on to his webbing.
Quite frankly, it was hot.
So hot that you failed to notice that Miguel had smacked you out of the villain’s grasp, expecting you to swing yourself out. Instead, you fall to the floor with a thud and a loud groan. It wasn’t a far fall, and all your limbs were still intact but the wind that was already limited in your lungs was smacked out of you, and the ground was definitely going to leave a bruise.
“FOCUS!” he shouts to you, sending another punch to the villain’s face to knock her off balance. That luckily snaps you out of your reverie as you stand back onto your feet, swinging up to help him out.
You use your webbing to pull the tentacles off of the wall, meanwhile, Miguel acts as a distraction so she can’t focus on the fact that she’s being brought down to the ground where a trap lay for her to land in.
Bit by bit more tentacles become loose, and with one last hit from Miguel she falls to the floor with a scream, the force field raising around her immediately.
“You won’t get away with this!” she says angrily, but you only smirk, swinging down to her level.
“Doesn’t seem like there’s much you can do in this position, can you? Don’t worry, we won’t keep you for long. You’ll be back in your universe in no time~” you say, opening up a portal straight into the holding room for the other anomalies and pushing her in.
“Bye!” you say simply before the portal closes, taking her with it.
Then, the building is quiet, and you wince as you feel Miguel’s imposing aura behind you. Grasping your shoulder, he whirls you around as he looks at you exasperatedly.
"Why the hell weren’t you paying attention?" he asks you, arms moving animatedly as they usually do.
“In my defence…you didn’t notice her coming either,” you say.
“That’s not an excuse! You have your Spidey-sense, you have an instinct that tells you when you’re in danger,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And that fall, what was that? You saw me coming, why are you so distracted today?” he says with a sigh.
“Well, you’re a very distracting man,” you mumble, and his eyes widen slightly under his mask before it dissipates, leaving only his handsome face behind. You pull off your mask in turn, only staring into his eyes.
He stares back before sighing.
“Are you hurt?” he says, his eyes running over your body scanning for any injuries.
“I’ve taken worse hits than that, you know,” you say in turn, your face heating up slightly.
“An injury is an injury regardless of how bad it is,” he says, walking around you to make sure nothing is out of place.
“Jeez, you should take your own advice Mr. ‘I don’t need to go to the infirmary ever’” you huff.
“That’s different,” he retorts.
“It’s really not.”
“It is.”
“It’s not.”
“I’m not gonna argue with you right now,” he rolls his eyes.
“Oh c’mon, you know that’s your favourite pastime,” you smirk.
“It’s not.”
“Don’t lie to yourself, it is.”
“I only tell the truth, it’s not.”
“You say that, but here you are arguing with me again,” you grin, and he groans.
“Regardless, you did good today,” he says after a moment.
“I always do good, what do you mean,” and he looks at you incredulously.
“Can you just allow me to compliment you?”
You just shrug.
“Ehhhh, I struggle to accept compliments because deep down I’m incredibly insecure and can’t make myself believe that I can do well, let alone have other people think that so…yeah!”
“…we’ll talk about this later,” he says, patting your shoulder (the tiniest bit awkwardly, which made you almost laugh considering how long you two have known each other).
“So, since you think I ‘did good’ today, what’s my reward?” you ask expectantly, the corner of your mouth quirked up. He hums for a moment before slinging his webs onto the ceiling, swinging himself up so that he hung upside-down.
“C’mere,” he says, and you look at him confused.
“What on Earth are you doing?” you say.
“Can you just listen to me for once and come here?” he says exasperatedly, so you relent and walk so you’re about a foot away from him.
“Closer,” he says, and you step closer hesitantly, the proximity making you nervous. He only huffs, reaching out to grasp onto your arm so you’re standing face to face.
The hand on your arm reaches up, softly placing itself on your cheek as you let out a little gasp. His eyes bore into yours, and you get lost in the swirling crimson and gold.
“Is this alright?” he says softly, his breath fanning across your face. You felt your heartbeat pick up as the warmth of his hand pressed into your cheek gently. You can’t do anything but nod.
His lips press into yours, slightly chapped but soft as he kissed you softly.
You had never felt anything so right.
“What was that for?” you whisper as he pulls away after a few seconds that felt like an eternity condensed into a single moment.
He snorts softly before swinging back onto his feet, pulling you into his chest with a hug.
“I know you have feelings for me,” he says, and your body tenses for a moment at the blatant comment.
“I-” you start, but he interjects calmly.
“Hasn’t it been obvious that I have feelings for you too?” he asks as he pulls away, cupping your cheeks in both his hands.
“I, I thought it was just because I was your best friend,” you say as all those little moments you’ve had over the years play through your head. It makes him laugh softly, oh how you loved that laugh.
“You’re painfully oblivious sometimes, you know,” he says, but the fondness is evident in his voice.
“Can you kiss me again?” you ask, a tad bit flustered but you already missed the feeling of his lips on yours.
He smiles down at you before kissing you tenderly, fingers tangling through your hair as your hand rests on his chest, feeling his racing heart.
Finally, you felt complete.
~
~
“I didn’t know you were so soft,” you giggle as you return back to HQ.
“I am not soft,” he says almost offendedly, but the corner of his lip is quirked up the tiniest bit. “Though if I was, it would only be for you.”
Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @rawegggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana—belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @ieatmunson, @honeii-puff, @wh0re4zaynmalik, @toplinehyunjin, @ohworm-writes
A/N: Two updates in one day? That's wild, haha. Am I writing this because I saw this prompt and I myself am in love with my best friend? Absolutely, but hey! Coping mechanisms, am I right :)
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urgonnaneedabiggership · 11 months
Text
Host of a Ghost
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse) x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Language. Spoilers (Miguel's backstory is mentioned). Mild violence. Very, very light mention of a foiled SA (not to reader). Some angst.
Word count: 4.1K
Short A/N: This man has become my hyperfixation since I watched the movie and I'd been wanting to write something with him and today finally the muse came to me do I deliver you this decent-sized thing I wrote. Hope you like it <3
PART II
“Unusual” wasn’t a word you would’ve used to describe your life at all. At least not until about a year ago.
It was unusual to find a spider with such an odd color palette roaming your apartment since you were used to more dull-colored typical critters. It was also unusual that you didn’t panic enough to turn the apartment upside down to look for the thing before it bit you, but there was too much work to do, and a million notes from Dr. Connors to go over. It was equally unusual that you hadn’t rushed to the hospital the minute you noticed the tiny marks on your thigh.
“I mean, if it was really dangerous, it would have hurt more.” Was your reasoning to ignore it and keep scanning the pages before you. Nobody said pursuing a Ph.D. was without sacrifice. 
By the time you tried to stand up to make more coffee just to end up collapsing on your kitchen floor, it was much too late.
From then on, “unusual” was pretty much every day’s motto.
Having a nightmare that night about being suffocated and unable to escape just to wake up hanging upside down and wrapped in sticky shit was the first clue. Turns out you were actually able to produce said sticky shit at will in the shape of a thin thread, then you discovered the wall-climbing abilities, and before you knew it you were roaming the city at night trying to get comfortable threading between the tall buildings, running across rooftops and challenging yourself to climb this or that building as fast as you could. You felt indestructible, alive. It was wonderful.
You’d never forget the night of your first save either. For several reasons.
It was an ordinary night, right before returning to your apartment, when a violent shiver abruptly ran up your spine and every cell in your body commanded you to stop. When you did, a scuffle in a nearby alley caught your eye. A young girl was violently shoved against a wall by a man who pressed his hand against her mouth. The same second his hand came dangerously close to the zipper of her jacket, you practically tackled him from above and pinned him against the ground, having no clue of what to do besides throwing punches at his face until you knocked him out. A whimper coming from a dumpster behind made you realize you had an audience.
“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, remembering your uncovered face, the only solution at hand is to wrap your scarf around your head to try and hide as much as possible, “Oh god this feels too much like cultural appropriation for my taste,” You kept nervously rambling to yourself as you slowly approached the dumpster.
“Um…hi,” You greeted, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
Being met with nothing but silence, you were about to leave when a soft voice replied.
“No. He didn’t. Thank you so much.”
“Is there…I don’t know; is there somebody you want me to call?”
“I want to call my mom.” She replied, her voice still shaking, “He took my phone.”
“Right. Phone. Okay.” You quickly made your way back to the unconscious man and pawed his clothes looking for it. He let out a groan in protest.
“Yeah it doesn’t feel right, does it asshole?” You muttered as you retrieved it from one of his pockets. Then you shoved him onto his stomach to tie his hands and legs behind his back before returning to the girl.
“Here. It still works,” You just held it over the dumpster, seeing nothing but her pale hand as it reached out to take it before you took a few steps back. 
“No, wait,” She immediately pleaded, “Please don’t leave me alone with him.”
“Like hell I am. I’m staying right here.”
So you waited with her until the police arrived. However, the minute you saw the flickering lights and heard the approaching siren, you retreated into the dark part of the alley and climbed onto the nearest building to escape through the rooftops.
It wasn’t until you were back in your apartment that you realized you’d been smiling all the way home. Carefully shutting the window behind you, you let yourself fall onto the couch and screamed joyfully, the pillow muffling the sound.
She was okay. A person was okay because you could intervene and do something about it.
However, a new wave of shivers flooded your veins so abruptly that you sat down immediately.
“Yeah, I know how that feels,” Came a feminine voice from the unlit kitchen, “Being able to help, I mean.”
You scrambled to your feet and started walking backward. However, the voice didn’t remain hidden for too long. A woman emerged from the shadows, dressed in red with a yellow hairband pushing her near-afro hair back. She greeted you with a soft smile.
“Your reflexes need polishing,”
“My…?” You repeated, dumbfounded.
“And you have to learn how to fight properly. Randomly throwing punches isn’t always going to cut it,”
“I’m sorry, who are you? Why are you in my apartment? Were you following me? Do you know about…?”
“Whoa, slow down, kid. I know you have questions, and I might be able to help you with that. But you’re going to have to come with me.”
“Alright, I’ll…let me just get my car keys,”
“Oh, sweetie,” The woman said in between laughs, not malicious but truly amused, “You have so much to learn,”
You were starting to wonder why she had elongated that “o” like that until, after pressing a few buttons on the device around her wrist, something that you would’ve described as a “black hole on LSD” erupted in the middle of your living room.
That night you learned that her name was Jessica Drews and that she was completely right about you having so much to learn. With a four-second-o.
Over the following months, you became capable of things you didn’t think possible. Walls that took you a minute to climb became easy obstacles that didn’t take up more than fifteen seconds of your time, your fighting skills had also improved exponentially under Jess’s tutelage, and of course, going from a life where you could count your friends with less than one hand to being constantly surrounded by amazing (no pun intended) Spider-People who not only understood the changes you were going through but warmly welcomed you into their circle was more than you could’ve asked for.
Well, perhaps some more willingly than others. And by others you meant him.
He, who seemed to be always around, silently watching but never intervening.
He, who despite being allegedly “always locked up in his lab” always seemed to personally oversee your training since day one.
Whom you’d tried to greet as gleefully as you did the others just to receive, if anything, a vague nod of acknowledgment. In your first three months, you had spoken maybe four times. Well, you had. He only hummed, nodded, or answered in monosyllables. You knew better than to waste your energy with people like that, but for some reason you were unwilling to just accept Miguel O’Hara didn’t like you and that was that.
“For some reason” being code for “I’m one second away from fainting every time he as much as looks in my direction,”
You weren’t a child, for crying out loud. You were aware that no matter how cold, distant, and seemingly indifferent the leader of your new team was, he was an insanely attractive man. Even with the fangs…no, especially with the fangs, for some reason. His whole aura that screamed “completely-inaccessible-frighteningly-powerful-twice-my-size-man” had you harboring a huge crush on him within two months of meeting him. So painfully unrequited that it was embarrassing.   Just the fact he could ignore your greetings and surely never think twice of it but you would spend the rest of the day wondering what you could’ve possibly said to make him at least say “hello” back made you want to scream into a pillow until your throat burned.
It was right up there with the time he’d muttered ‘much better’ when he saw you land a kick you’d been practicing and those three seconds kept playing on your head for the rest of the week.
The night of your first mission you decided you were going to prove your worth, not to your crush but to your team leader.
“I told him you’re ready,” Jess said with a proud smile, “He’s going to call you in sometime throughout the day to let you know where you’ll be going and with whom, probably me. How do you feel?”
“Excited, I guess,” You replied, pressing your lips together anxiously, “Also nervous. I don’t want to screw this up.”
“With me as your mentor? That’s unlikely,” Jess replied with a wink, giving you an encouraging pat on your shoulder as she walked away.
However, the day continued normally. You did some assigned tasks here and there, which mostly included helping Spider-Byte to keep everything running smoothly given your background in the tech field. You grabbed lunch, then thought it would be a good idea to train some more before going away.
You were beginning to lose all hope when, as you leaned down to fix some wiring, Lyla popped right beside your head and called your name so loudly you hit your head against the metal and hissed. One year and still you hadn’t used to the way she appeared out of nowhere.
“Oops, sorry,” She promptly apologized, “Well you’ll have to walk that off, Miguel wants to see you STAT.”
“How am I supposed to walk a head injury off, Lyla?” You joked, rubbing your forehead as you rushed across the halls with the holographical figure floating after you.
“Not in my code,” She replied using her usual excuse.
When you walked into his working space, Miguel’s back was turned to you as he used a digital pen to do some annotations on what looked like blueprints of new equipment. After he didn’t react to your presence for a few seconds, you hesitantly walked closer and cleared your throat.
“That looks nice. Is it a new suit?” You asked, as always, trying to start a conversation.
“I just received an alert about the…” He stopped and sighed as if saying the silly nickname was physically painful to him, “…the Go-Home-Machine. It said there was a small power overload since we sent back that Vulture from the 192-011 Universe.”
“Yeah, but Byte and I are already working on that and it should be fully functional by tomorrow morning,” You replied, a bit confused as to what that had to do with your mission.
“Good. Let me know as soon as it’s fixed.” Miguel hastily replied, not even turning to face you until a whole minute passed and he realized you were still standing there. Even then, he just barely turned his head.
“That’s all, (Y/N). Thank you.”
That’s all? What do you mean that’s all?
“Was there something else you wanted to do?” He asked. Shit. You’d said that out loud.
“I…Jessica told me that I’m ready to go on a mission and that today you…”
“I said I would think about it, and I have.”
He fell silent again. No matter how attractive he was, you were starting to truly get pissed at his stupid theatrical antics.
“And?”
“And the answer’s no. You’re not ready yet.”
That felt like all the disappointments in your entire life added up and multiplied by ten. Especially because of how easily he dismissed you despite being aware of how hard you’d worked, how many nights you decided to forgo hours of sleep just to train and polish every movement until it was as close to flawless as you could.
“Not ready yet?” You practically hissed in a voice you almost didn’t recognize. Hell, it was enough for him to put down the pen. “Not ready yet? That kid Pavitr has been here for what? A month? And he’s already going off on missions. Alone, I might add!”
Unsurprisingly, he did not answer.
“And he’s very, very good, I’m not saying he isn’t. But I’m just as good. And more experienced, both at being here and at being a Spider-Person. I have completed every training scenario you’ve thrown my way, worked my ass off to understand every bit of information regarding interdimensional traveling, and studied the protocol to control anomalies, what is it that you still need me to prove?”
He took a deep breath. So deep that his shoulders rose, flexing the muscles of his back in such a way that if you hadn’t been so angry, you would’ve been too distracted to keep arguing. Even with your blood boiling, you couldn’t help but stare and feel your stomach tense at the sight.
“Do you like being part of this team, (Y/N)? Do you like training in our headquarters, having access to all our information, and maintaining contact with the other members of this society?”
“Of course I do,” You replied immediately. Slowly, Miguel turned around to face you completely and walked towards you, descending the two small steps that separated you until he stood towering over you. Even if your knees were about to give in to this unexpected closeness, this wasn’t the time to fold. You held his glare defiantly and folded your arms in an attempt to mentally guard yourself against him.
“Then I suggest you get in line and do as you’re told,” He said in a low voice. But it wasn’t threatening, or condescending. It was an odd, flat tone. Tired, perhaps. Almost as if…as if he was reprimanding you against his will.
He was almost unbearably close. You could feel his breath hitting your face. If right then all logic flew out of the window and you stood on your tiptoes you could…
“I’ll do that when you’ve earned my respect, and I have a policy of reciprocity when it comes to respect, Miguel. I’ve been in line for a year, I’ve listened, learned, and improved so much that if you’re still looking down on me, then it’s your problem, not mine. And no self-righteous, big-headed…”
“Just get out,” He cut you off, once again turning his back to you and walking towards the blueprints again.
“Oh no, I’m not finished…” You insisted, trying to follow him. However, as soon as you gave one step forward he turned around so violently that you stumbled backward and stared at him with something you hadn’t felt towards him up until then: fear.
“Yes, you are,” Was his only reply. As dull as the others.
While you could only see his face for a moment before he walked past you and left the room, something about his expression stuck with you even hours later, when you laid on your bed at night and combed through the scene over and over. You thought he would be fuming, maybe even shocked that you’d dared to talk to him like that. The last thing you expected was for him to look…upset. Hurt, even. The mere thought of you being able to hurt Miguel O’Hara was as ridiculous as imagining a goldfish fighting back against a shark. Still, you realized that even if you thought he was in the wrong, you felt bad about how things went down back there. You would never understand what being the leader of hundreds of super-powered people was like. Commanding each and directing their particular abilities as best as he could all while maintaining a vigilant eye on endless strings of causes and effects because he knew firsthand the consequences of being careless with them.
Even if he had made a mistake with you and of course you still wanted to address it later, right then all you wanted was to apologize.
And so, not even an hour later you were roaming the halls of the HQ, your heart beating furiously as you got closer to his quarters, wondering what you could even begin to say.
When the automatic doors slid open, you stepped inside and turned back to look as the doors closed behind you. Well, no turning back now.
“Miguel?” You called, looking around the large room, pondering whether a first-name basis was okay. After everything that had happened, going back to Mr. O’Hara sounded terribly stupid. Then your eyes landed on the row of screens where he spent most of his time. An extremely ill-timed wave of curiosity filled your chest as you approached them, taking another look at the seemingly empty room before stepping onto the platform. Getting bolder, you reached out your hand and brushed your fingertips across one of the screens. It immediately came to life with a blue glow, startling you and making you curse under your breath. You were about to look for a button to switch it off when a video started playing automatically from where he had left off. He was in it, holding a young girl. Miguel wasn’t just smiling. He was laughing. His laugh was exactly as you’d pictured it. Not particularly loud, but hearty and low. He had the kind of laugh that made you unwittingly smile as well as a newfound sympathy filled your chest as tears filled your eyes when you pictured that being taken from him just like that. How could one have a family, and then one day be completely alone and keep going?
With a renewed disposition to make things better between you, your hand reached out for the switch that would turn the screen off until a third voice piqued your interest. It belonged to whoever was holding the camera.
“Would you please stop hoarding her? I deserve some mother-daughter time too! Here, hold this thing and give her to me,” The voice said between laughs. There was something about that voice that made an extremely cold shiver run down your spine.
“Fine, you’re right. Bueno pues, mijita, ve con mamá, ¿quieres ir con mamá?”
The picture became blurry as the camera switched places with a giggling Gabriella, who could be briefly seen stretching her arms toward the third figure.
“Alright,” Came Miguel’s voice again, “But when I turn the camera towards you I want both of you to blow Daddy a kiss, can you do that for me?”
Without waiting for an answer, he turned the camera around.
And then you found yourself staring into your own eyes. They weren’t quite the same shade as yours, and “your” hair was styled differently. And “you” had freckles. But otherwise, it was like staring into an interdimensional mirror. Then, your voice spoke.
“Okay sweetie, let’s humor him, shall we? Blow Daddy a kiss. And another one from me because now I have to use both arms to hold you, my big girl!”
Miguel laughed again at the way his daughter’s face lit up at being called a “big girl”.
“¿Saben que las amo a las dos, verdad?”
“And Gabriella loves you too. I think you’re…nice enough.”
“(Y/N), I don’t think you marry somebody for ‘nice enough’, mi amor,”
“I love you too. Against my better judgment.”
With one last interrupted laugh, the video ended, and, in a cruel irony, the once again black screen showed your actual reflection.
Except this time, it wasn’t the only one. With a loud gasp, you turned around. After seeing him in that video, it became much more evident that the Miguel in it was nothing but a memory of the past. And in a matter of seconds, everything shifted into place like a gloomy puzzle. His expression was unreadable, though he wasn’t even looking at you. His eyes were fixed on the empty screen.
“I wasn’t supposed to ever see that, was I?” Was the only thing that came to your mind after a lengthy, tense silence.
“What good would it have done?” He replied, almost numbly.
“So that’s why you’ve always…stared?” You kept pushing. Against your better judgment, you thought.
“It was at first,” Came his only response. Like always, it seemed like you would have to tear the answers off him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, turning your head to look for his eyes. Even then, something warm filled your chest. Something that made your heart beat so quickly you felt as if it would stop at any moment, and it spread all over you no matter how much you tried to fend it off. Hope.
Surprisingly, this time he caved in and looked at you. Still, the answer never came. For the first time in all the time you’d known him, Miguel O’Hara was at a loss for words. And that said more than anything he could’ve come up with.
“And you expect me to believe that, by sheer chance, you happened to catch feelings for somebody who is practically your wife’s interdimensional twin?”
“It sounds so much worse when you say it like that,” Was that a hint of a smile? An attempt at a joke? One year and the only time he’d bothered to be decent to you was when you were talking about how much you looked like her?
With an annoyed look, you moved away from him and started to make your way to the exit.
“Do you think I wanted this?” He spoke rather loudly, his whispers going out of the window as he started to follow you across the room.
Miguel O’Hara following you to keep you from leaving. Just hours before you would’ve died of happiness at the mere thought of this scenario. Right now, your brain was a flurry of thoughts and emotions that you didn’t know how to handle.
“I was doing an amazing job at keeping my distance. Watching you from afar, seeing you laugh, grow, win everybody over with that awfully big heart of yours, and still I reined myself in,” He continued, “Today’s the perfect example. You thought I didn’t respect you, for fuck’s sake! I respect you so much that every single day I have ignored you and pretended you are nothing but another face in the halls. Damn it, (Y/N), I couldn’t even look you in the eye when for months you’ve been all I’ve wanted. All because I didn’t know if I loved you or what was left of her. And I didn’t want you to get involved in shit that’s mine to figure out.”
Hearing him not only withdraw his previous statement of you not being capable of doing things and accepting the problem was his and not yours made you stop in your tracks.
Fine, the sudden (though odd) love declaration had something to do with it too.
“So you don’t think I’m not ready?” You asked, turning around and even taking some steps towards him.
“Are you serious? I’ve watched you closely all these months. You learn in days what others do in weeks. You push yourself way more than so many of our members and yet I’ve never, ever seen you become overconfident. Today you never said you knew everything. You said you knew enough.”
This time, it was you who remained silent. There was something else you wanted him to elaborate on, and from the look in his eyes, you realized he knew damn well what it was.
“You were right. The problem wasn’t yours. It was mine all along. I could manage to push you away and keep my feelings at bay. But knowing that you were eventually going to go out there and take so many risks...worst case scenario, you could get hurt or not come back at all. That was too much for me to handle, s’all.”
“Were you afraid of losing me…?” You started to ask just for him to interrupt you.
“Yes. Very much.” However, you lifted a hand to stop him. You weren’t finished.
“Were you afraid of losing me, or were you afraid of losing her again, Miguel?”
Three seconds later, when no answer came out of his mouth, you were about to turn around once again when he rushed and stood in front of you. For a second, you thought he was going to grab your shoulders to keep you in place. Not wanting to come off as if he was forcing you to stay, his hands just hovered on both sides of your shoulders without touching you.
“Listen, she wasn’t a picky eater like you are. But I swear that woman never drank enough water and every time I see you there’s either a bottle in your hand or laying around. And she was so, so messy. It took us at least ten minutes to find the keys every single time…and Spider-Byte said you sort your tools by size and color. Color. (Y/N), I don’t think even I…”
“Are you getting somewhere with this?”
“You’re not her, (Y/N). You have never been, and you never will, I know that. I want you to know that I wouldn’t want you to be any other way. I love you.”
After that, he moved out of the way and folded his arms.
“If you want to go back to your dimension and stay there for a while…or for good, I don’t know, I completely…”
“I love you too, you know?” You cut him off, pressing your lips together after blurting out the three words that’d been haunting you for the past months. Words that up until now you were sure would never leave your chest. When you turned to look at him, you saw in his eyes what minutes ago had filled yours. Hope.
God, his face was so hauntingly beautiful when his features softened.
“What do you want from me?” You finally asked him, your voice shaky from the effect you knew his answer would have regardless of what it was.
Miguel moved closer to you almost hesitantly, his eyes never leaving yours. When he was close enough, he reached out with both his hands and slid them up the back of your neck, his thumbs tucked in front of your ears as his warm palms engulfed the back of your head so he could hold you while he brought his face down to press his forehead against yours.
“Mi amor, I’d give you all I am and be happy with whatever you’re willing to give me for now,”  
You knew it would take some time for you to get used to hearing him say things like that without wondering if you were the only one in his mind when he did. It would be a while until you felt completely certain that you were made of flesh and bone and not just a ghost in his eyes, but it would happen. You saw his eyes as he drew his face closer to yours and when your lips touched, you knew that it would definitely happen sooner or later. Until then, you thought as you stood on your tiptoes when he almost desperately pressed his lips onto yours, he was very much worth the wait.
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littyhoney · 11 months
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Right Person,Wrong Time (part 1)
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(Part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)
BIG SPOILER WARNING TO ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE!!
Earth 42 Miles Morales x Reader
Chapter summary: you have always been there for Miles,will your long time crush ever pay attention to you…or not?
Warning: Spoilers for the movie Across the Spider-verse, slight angst
Guys this is my first time writing this be gentle with me <3 enjoy!
“Alright so lets do this one more time, Hey! Im (Y/N) (L/N) and Im one of the well-known spiderman/spiderwoman of Brooklyn,New York.” you swing through the city using your web as some of the civilians took out their phone to take picture or video of you. You land on top of a rooftop before speaking into an invincible camera “But im not the only one,im with my close friend Miles Morales who is also a spiderman of Brooklyn,weird huh?”
comes another person swing by you as he parkour through the rooftop in his black and red spider suit “keep up (n/n)!” Miles laugh as he jumps and swings away. You let out a chuckle as you follow him “Yo Miles wait up!”.
For the last few months after the collider incident with Kingpin,you and miles get closer since both of you share the same responsibility to keep the city safe and life is not easy even after you wear the spider mask. Balancing your life as a student and as a hero is not..easy,at all. At one time you could be in class try to catch up to your academic and the next thing you make up an excuse to go to the rest room to go out and fight crimes, comes back with few bruises and scrathes. But both of you manage to pull through the day,together.
It is Sunday as you and Miles are hanging out in his room listening to music, you are sitting on his bed bopping your head to the song as you scroll through your phone while Miles is sitting at his desk with his sketchbook,drawing. Suddenly the silent breaks as Miles stop his drawing and ask “Hey..(n/n)” he turn his chair towards you.
“Hm? What is it coco head? Something on your mind?” you turn your attention to Miles,notice his sad demenor. You stand up from the bed and walk towards him put your hand on his shoulder.
“Do you..miss the other spiders? Like Peter..Peni and..Gwen” Miles speak,his voice is low as he look up at you. You sigh and nod your head “Yeah I do Miles, but they are in another dimension” you tilt your head slightly “They are out there living their lives,I wonder if Peter B ever have a child ya know” you chuckle,trying to lighten up his mood
Miles chuckle before he look down at his hands on his lap “I just…miss Gwen a lot actually” he sigh as he wipe his face with his palms slightly frustrated “Ya know it is hard I miss her and she is not even from here man”
you lean on the table beside him,hunch down slightly to look him in the eyes,with sympathy “Miles,you know the rules right,they cant be here nor we can be there, we can dissapear and so are they”
“I know that (y/n)…I know,if only I could just met Gwen one time” Miles lean back on his chair looking at the ceiling,in his head he is hopping maybe a portal would just pop out so he could go to Gwens dimension..
You look at your friend sadnes fill your heart to see your best friend seem so down,you know Miles have been missing the spiders ever since the first week they went back to their dimension and for the past time you have try your best to be there for Miles and keep him company listening to whatever problem he is facing. For the years you been friend with Miles you slowly start to develop feelings for the ball of sunshine. His creativity in his talent,he is smart in academics,his warm honey brown eyes that seem to always take your breath away and such a sweet smile..it would be a fool of you to not fall for the boy.
You lick your lips slightly before you stand up and face to the desk,trying to change the subject “what cha drawing Miles?” you pick up his black sketchbook and go through the pages. “Oh just some uh,sketches of..” Miles voice trail off not wanting to finish the sentence.
“Of..?” I trail my question as I keep flicking the pages before stopping on the page he was currently drawing on and look at the figure he drew with such great details, my breath hitch slightly before finish my own sentence “Gwen..” I look at the drawing..a pang of jealousy fill my heart before I shake my head slightly and close the book turn to look at Miles with a small smile “It looks awesome Miles,you really get her smile and suit on point”
Thanks man” Miles smile at you before you could say anything Rio voice muffle through the close door of Miles bedroom “Miles! Dinner is ready! Tell (y/n) she can join for dinner!” Miles turn towards the doors slightly “Okay mom! Be there in a sec!” Miles turn back to you before nudge his head slightly towards the door “You joinning (n/n)?” You shake your head slightly before move to get your jacket and phone “I have to go home Miles,il see you later okay?” Miles stand up from his chair making his way to you before giving you a hug “Thank you for being with me (n/n)”
You smile sadly knowing that Miles need your support more in this tough times of his.. you pat his back before making your way out of his room saying goodbye to mama Rio and walk out the street with both of your hands in your pocket…you cant help but though of how many times Miles have mention Gwen whenever you two are together…how many times he have drawn her in almost all the pages in his sketchbook, heck he didn’t even draw you even though you have been friends for so long..maybe you could try to be better…maybe be like Gwen..?
To be continued...
(AAAA IM SO NERVOUS LEMME KNOW IF YALL STILL WANT CHAPTER 2)
Tags:
@kissmxcheek @otaku-degenarate @matthiashelvarsgf @usernamepasswordsstuff @s41ntf4m3 @bath1lda @jared-oranges @papilioism @pinkprettyroses @marumareloer
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night-daily · 10 months
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Jealousy jealousy | Peter Parker x fem! reader
Summary: 3 times where Peter hears you fangirling over Spiderman and one time he finally explodes.
warnings: none.
a/n: enjoy and let me know if there's any mistakes please!:)
The first time, he overheard you talking to your friends, was an accident, he didn't on purpose it just happens every time he sees you, he has no control over his senses. And he doesn't realize he's eavesdropping until you say something that brings him back to reality.
“... I think he's hot.” whoa, were you talking about him? Nice. “I mean, have you seen how athletic he is?” fuck, it wasn't him. Yeah, he participates in P.E class but he has to pretend he isn't good at it so you or anyone else wouldn't get suspicious. So it couldn't be him.
Peter turned his face away from you, feeling insecure. You were dumping him? Who was this guy?
“Hey, what are we talking about?” One of your friends came to the table you and your friends were eating.
And of course, Peter needed to hear the name of the guy.
''I'm masochistic?''
“Spider man!” You exclaimed with a smirk on your face making your friends groan. His heart stopped for a second. “Again?” Your friend rolled playfully her eyes to you. And you nodded with your head cheerily.
Peter felt his body relax at your words. So you like Spider man uh? Only if you knew Spider man likes you too.
The second time, the two of you are in his room, he sitting at his desk doing homework while you are doing yours in his bed. Well, you got bored doing the homework so now you were just rambling stuff about your classes, your friends, and...
“Hey, have you heard about Spider man?” Peter's body froze. “You know, the Superhero.” He hums in agreement, incapable to make a comment. “I heard some people show up at the crime scenes just to watch him in action.” And Peter dislike that people, they could get hurt and they didn't even care, and for what? just to watch him? “Yeah, that's crazy.” He expected you to agree with him, but you were quiet. “That's crazy, right?” He turns his chair to look at you, but you were avoiding his eyes. “... I don't know, to be honest, I would like to watch him in person too, even a glimpse of him.” Now he was seeing red. Why would you do that? Why would you put your life in danger for someone who you don't even know? Why would you do that for Spider man?
He couldn't help but feel a hole in his chest, it was a heavy and ugly feeling, he had never felt something like that. Jealousy. “What’s so good about him, anyway?” Peter muttered, turning himself, and ignoring the smile that crept across your face.
The third time, you were getting ready to hang out with your friends at the new coffee shop, doing your makeup you saw Peter through the mirror leaning against the doorframe of your room.
“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” your teasing smile sent butterflies to his stomach. “Why would I want a picture? If I have you all for myself.” He came closer to you from behind your back, placing kisses on your naked shoulder. “Oh, you're lucky that I haven't met Spider man then.” He stopped kissing your shoulder “Please, go with him if you like him so much” You turned your face to him. “I'm kidding Pete, I already have you and I love you so much.” You squeezed his hand. “Also, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't notice me, I bet he dates models”
He didn't know why he was more upset, you doubting how beautiful you are or assuming that Spider man wouldn't notice you. But you were wrong in both assumptions.
“You are the fucking prettiest girl I've ever met and anyone would be so lucky to share the same oxygen you breathe because I know I am.” And he smashed your lips, it was a passive-aggressive kiss. “I'm lucky too.”
And the one time he finally explodes, Peter was resting in his bed after a long night patrol when you crossed the door excitedly.
“PETER YOU'RE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT” Oh, sure he did. “What happened, love?” He played fool. “So, remember when you dropped me at the corner of the street? Well, guess what!?” You made it a short pause not giving him the chance to respond “SPIDER MAN WAS THERE TOO” He gasped. “No way!” You grabbed your phone and unlocked it “AND HE GAVE ME FLOWERS. NOT JUST THAT, TULIPS, MY FAVORITES” You showed him the photos of you and your tulips, you looked so happy and that makes him happy too. “He shouldn’t go after other people’s girlfriends” He half-joked. You laughed “Maybe after all you have a rival” He wasn't smiling anymore “I mean, who gifts tulips to a complete stranger? Maybe he likes me? OH MY GOD, SPIDER MAN LIKES ME! WOULD YOU IMAGINE US TOGE-” “Babe, I'm Spider man!” Peter cuts you off. He couldn't stand anymore hear you falling for Spider man. But how would you react? Would you hate him for keeping it secret?
“I knew it!” He was shocked “Wait, what?” you shrugged “Honey, you aren't that subtle.” Now, if you knew it, why you had never told anything to him? “I never told you anything because I kind of enjoy you being like this and I want to know how much you could take it before admitting you were jealous and you were Spider man.” Peter blushed “I never would have thought I’d ever be jealous about me.” You winked at him “Oh, jealousy looks good on you.”
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prodbymaui · 1 year
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These Secrets That I Have.
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what if I told you that I've fallen?
PAIRING: mark lee x fem!reader
GENRE: our friendly neighborhood spiderman ; the best friends
WORD COUNT: 4.3k+ words
WARNINGS: eventual smut, choking kink, arson
SYNOPSIS: Joking that your best friend is the infamous superhero bitten by a spider has been a habit for the group. It was all a joke, until it wasn't.
A/N: THE UPSIDE DOWN KISS!! spidermark agenda, I wouldn't let you die. and forgive for the poor attempts of comedy lmao. anyways, happy reading and don't forget to share your thoughts about this fic! <3
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''With great power comes..''
''Great responsibilities--''
Gasping dramatically, Johnny stands up as his finger points accusingly to the male who's unknowingly straining his vocal chords due to laughing so much.
Mark shakes his head, clapping his hands in amusement. ''Dude, everybody knows that.''
''Nobody gets it right.''
Jaehyun joins the tallest among all of you. ''Except spiderman.''
Cackles once again blooms, the way these two delivers their impromptu exposing session is so comical that you are all gasping for air.
If you didn't know better, those faces full of shock mixed with betrayal would fool you into thinking your best friend is actually the one behind the infamous red and dark blue suit with webs and spider symbols decorating it. No ones knows when it actually began, the spiderman jokes. Johnny and Jaehyun are certainly the ones to start the teasing on Mark, doting on him and urging him to 'admit it' in every chance they get. Oftentimes, the jokes are fueled by Mark's fast reflexes. Someone can react fast, alright, but something about Mark's tells that there's a deeper root or cause, Johnny's words.
Personally, you don't really think Mark would be the 'friendly neighborhood' superhero neither do you consider even the smallest chance because-- one, the male is literally with you almost 24/7 and spiderman saves people 25/8. And two, you've stayed at Mark's apartment more than you've done to your dorm, you know the in and outs, every nook and cranny of the space-- not once did you found even a mere clue that suggests what Johnny and Jaehyun had in their mind.
''You really gotta back us up here, dude. You know what you've seen.'' Once again, the faux seriousness shows in his words and his eyes widening to convince, you decides to ride his flow this time.
''Actions speaks louder than voice, Mark. If you're not spiderman, then explain the spidey senses!'' Johnny throws a cap towards Mark's direction, effectively making the man catch it within seconds, eventually proving your 'theory'.
'I told you so' looks are exchanged between the three of you. Haechan barks a laugh at that.
''This is fucking crazy.'' Clearly, he's enjoying the show judging by the tears escaping the sockets of his eyes.
The series of persistence is left to deaf ears. Mark prefers downing as much pizza as he can right now rather than dealing with endless accusations that, to say the least, is absolutely nonsensical. ''Y'all would cut this shit out or you'll have webs shoved down deep in your throat in a minute?''
By now, Mark should've known making empty threats that has connections with spiderman's universe or spiderman himself will just worsen the situation he already finds hard to be in. Albeit his ears ringing, Mark didn't make any effort to stop the banters of his friends regarding if he's the superhero bitten by a spider or he's just a natural. Concluding that the discussion is harmless, he doesn't find the need to.
Ha! It's not like he's actually the 'Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman', right?
Another groan escapes past your lips, fingers drumming the white table. 15 minutes upon arriving at 7/11, your instant ramen slash source of distraction from boredom sadly disappears in thin air. What the fuck is taking Mark Lee so long?
''--so you mean, 10 muscled people holding rifles each was nothing against 1 spider descendant or some shit?'' Your ears perks up.
''Yup, flicked those robbers away to the police like it was nothing.''
''Damn crazy, and fucking awesome.''
''That's spiderman for you,'' The boy browses through the ice cream freezer near you. ''Still can't believe he's in this area just minutes ago.''
Eh? The superhero was here? Then that would mean the said robbery took place somewhere not far from where you were eating your ramen peacefully. How come you didn't hear the sirens? You sigh, mind wondering the possible outcomes if the robbers decides to raid the stores nearby and eventually reach yours. It fuels your urge to go home even more.
Supposedly, this trip shouldn't last no more than 10 minutes considering the fact that the store is not even 3 minutes away from your dorm and choosing chips to your liking only takes less than 5 minutes of your time-- depending on how indecisive you are and how crazy your cravings are. It'll all bring you back to the comfort of your bedroom in no time, nonetheless.
But a certain someone thought it's a good idea to leave you at the store and tells you that he'll be back in a bit, making you wait like some child for their parent. Heck, no parent would even leave their child alone at a convenience store, opting to take the kid with them. He insisted on meeting here again in spite of your whines to go separate ways so you can enjoy the warmth of your bed all the while he fulfills the errand that he so eagerly wants to finish.
''This motherfucker, I swear to God.'' Informing Mark that you'll go back via message, the chair lets out a faint screech as your body heat lingers a little longer after standing up to leave. Just as you turn around, your shoulders meets a chest, sending you both to a halt as the collision sinks in. You look up to see your most awaited best friend with his unstyled chest nut hair serving as a curtain for his same shade orbs. He breathes heavily, as if catching some air to fend his lungs.
Eyes raking down his body, you drink in his appearance. He looks like he just came from.. a fight. ''The hell happened to you, dude?'' Your figure heads towards the store's exit.
''Police thought I was one of those that belonged to the robbery, took me a while to convince them I'm not, sorry.''
You snort. ''Well, I would mistake you as a robber too with this beanie and all black outfit you have.''
Mark scowls. ''They thought I'm a victim, just for your information.''
''Really? That's surprising.'' Laughing softly under your breath, you tosses a bag of chips to Mark as compensation for your teasing.
The gust of cold breeze remains disregarded, warmth coming from the other's body heat is enough to ease the coldness. Passing by where the crime occurred, your feet unknowingly fasten their pace, shuddering at the thought of danger albeit the police cars and armed officers surrounds the area in protection stance.
Overhearing a reporter going on about something along the lines of 'the cops thanking Spiderman as it weren't for him, they wouldn't be able to catch the criminals' makes you sigh.
They should really stop depending on the superhero. You thought.
''Isn't it scary?''
Mark turns to you. ''What is?''
''The way greed can drive humans to intense, irrevocable madness.  It pushes them to do these things that'll not only put their lives in danger but will also fail to satisfy their desires. Sure, they can have money in the palms of their hands with just a snap, stealing from people-- but will those bills last for a long time? Will that be enough for them? Certainly not.''
A brief glance from Mark is what you received, the bop of his head caught by your peripheral vision assures you to keep going. ''The more they steal, the more they crave. If the officials thinks that every on-going and unsolved crimes plastered on the news by the media will scare the criminals away because they are apparently doing their best to find the suspects and pull them out of wherever hole they are hiding, they're wrong. The cops wouldn't be forced to  use their best assets and experience sleepless nights if the criminals are not doing well at their job, right? Those announcements of endless searchings and calls for the people's help only pats the wanted people on their back, telling them they've done an excellent mayhem job.
Sometimes, I don't even know who to blame when crimes, like this kind, happens. Is it the criminals themselves because they lost their morals over materialistic things? Because they gave in to the urge of possessing those that goes beyond what they can comprehend? Is it the police for not hearing the reason why these criminals have done it? Is it the society who embodies judgemental and discriminating in all sorts of way that probably pushed them to do such things? Or is it the government who failed to make education and employment accessible to everyone no matter what their status in life is?''
Kicking a pebble out of your way, it creates a dull thudding sounds. ''Proper education and enabling people to have a grasp of legal source of income would probably prevent crimes from happening. I'd like to think that most are just desperate measures.''
Mark hums. ''What you said are somewhat right. They makes sense.''
''But.. ?'' You know there's more that he itches to say.
''But, as much as everyone deserves to be heard and understood, some are just born evil. Born without remorse for others. It'll surprise you how we encounter many people such them in our daily lives. So avoid thinking that criminals did what they've done because they had a traumatic and devastating life. You're unknowingly justifying the ends by their means, something you cannot do especially if the lives of innocents are on the line.''
It's unclear why Mark sounds firm and sure regarding of meeting the people he just talked about but since their existence is not exactly a secret from the whole world, you suppose he's correct.
Too caught up in your conversation, your feet reached the entrance of your dorm's building in no time. Turning around, you offer a cheeky smile at him. ''Thank heavens then that I don't need to worry about my safety.''
Mark returns your smile with a hearty scoff. He knows where this is going. ''Uh-huh, and why is that?''
''Because I have Spiderman as my best friend! You'll protect me, won't you spidey?'' Giggling, Mark nudges your arm as you walk side by side, resorting to shaking his head instead of joining your spiderman agenda.
Spiderman or not, Mark vows to himself to keep you away from the darkness of this world with all his might. He already lost his uncle, he couldn't afford to lose someone so dear to his heart once again.
The alarm blares loudly and pierces your ear drums, almost busting them yet you didn't make any effort of getting up. The ringing sounds extra loud today, though. Ah.. you don't really want to wake up. Your body shifts to a new position, hands searching where your phone lays.
Definitely, no one wants to wake up before the roosters crows in a weekend where you should be using all your time to rest in preparation of yet another tiring week.
Skin making a contact with the source of the sound, you didn't feel any vibration with it. Just as when you decided to go back to sleep and withstand the annoying ringing of the alarm, rapid knocks on your door overpowered the previous sound, effectively pulling you out of the borderline between dreamland and reality.
You sit up. ''Fuck--'' It is only then that you realized, the alarm isn't coming from your usual alarm clock. Instead, it is the fire alarm ringing and announcing the state of your building.
With panic taking over your emotions, your body moves fast. Getting all the things that you know is important before soaking a blanket in water, covering yourself with it, and finally running out to leaving your room. Tears pricks your eyes as you meet the fiery blaze engulfing the whole building, enclosing in with every blink and every breath you take. You step a few backwards, lips quivering as you try to ignore the scorching heat seeping through the wet blanket, threatening to burn your skin any minute. Your eyes wavers.
There's so many ways you could die but dying helplessly amidst of an arson is not what you fancy. A scream of horror couldn't even be used to express your fear, you remain quiet and whimpering despite the shivering of your body, arms hugging yourself.
Your doors shut close once again, your back leaning against it as you falls to the ground, drops of tears continuously running down your cheeks. The fire started from a floor below yours, or at least that's what it seemed like. Meaning you absolutely have no chance of escaping the flames unless you jump out of your window. Surely, you're somehow survive a fall from the 5th floor, right?
A rattle created somewhere in your house snaps you out of your nonlogical thoughts. Looking up, you don't know whether to believe your eyes or rub the surface of your orbs, taking a second look in case what you're seeing is just a figment of your imagination. Maybe you're slowly losing some screws in the head.
But the movement of the figure, jogging towards you, tells you otherwise. ''What the fuck.. ?''
It's real.
It's him.
It's Spiderman in the fucking flesh.
Once again, you are stolen from your trance by his arms gently pulling you up, steadying you. Without much of a warning, the superhero scoops you in his arms and flies out of the window. And holy fuck, does it scared the shit out of you that the fibers of your body started to scream nothing but hold on tight to the man who's swinging down the building with you.
The uncalled adventure ended before you could even processed that your building is currently burning down, you got stucked between the fire and now Spiderman just saved you. No one should be able to blame you if you take days to properly digest what just happened.
He stands before you for a few more seconds, as if raking down his eyes. You tilt your head when he nods and runs to save the others. ''The fuck.. ?'' For the nth of the day, you let out a curse.
Your brain is totally playing with you. There's no fucking way Spiderman helped you, made sure that you got no wounds slash you're safe and sound before nodding as if to assure himself. Johnny is gonna combust if he's to hear your story.
The comfort of the thick blanket engulfs your figure as you hold your cellphone and wallet in your hand. Sighing, you turn to Jaehyun who came to your aid at this goddamn hour. ''You don't really have to stay with me, Jay. Pretty sure this'll end in an hour or so, you can go back now.''
Stubbornly, the male shakes his head. ''Did you know how worried we are when we heard from Mark that your dorm was on fire? Johnny and Haechan almost even flew out of Busan just to make sure you're alright.''
''Dude, I'm really fine, I promise. I can manage this, just rest.''
His hand pushes your head lightly to lay on his shoulder. ''No, you rest.''
Giving up, you let yourself relax, leaning your weigh towards Jaehyun as you pull the blanket tighter around you. The dreamland train is ready to send you to your slumber when your eyes opens abruptly, realizing what Jaehyun just said.
''Jay?''
He hums.
''From whom did you heard about the fire again?''
''Uh.. Mark?''
''And where is he right now?''
''... Dunno, maybe he's somewhere that's why he couldn't come.''
Your silence tells Jaehyun you're not convinced by his reason.
He silently prays Mark doesn't kick his ass.
2 hours passed and you decided to make Jaehyun drop you off on Mark's place, opting to stay there until everything's alright back at your apartment. It is proven that the male's walls have nothing against your persistent whines as you now lay on Mark's bed, scrolling through your phone.
Ever since stepping a foot here few minutes ago, you didn't catch nor sense Mark's presence. In usual days, it's Mark who zooms from wherever he is to your place once the news of something happening to you reaches him. But today, it was Jaehyun instead.
Your thoughts ponders to where it has been circling earlier. A voice inside you says something you surprisingly don't find hard to believe. Maybe it was your best friend who found you first after all, just not in his signature beanie and all black outfit.
''That's dumb. I should stop joining Johnny and Jaehyun with their shenanigans.''
You must've gone crazy now that you're talking to yourself.
''What's so crazy about that? Doesn't everyone talks to themselves at least once? It's not like it's so bad. According to scientists, taking to yourself brings you comfort and such.''
Of course, that's bullshit. You hate reading anything that involves science.
''Mark is not the superhero who got bitten by a magical spider that turned him into a man who saves the people from fire and crimes. Mark is just your stupid of a best friend that thinks putting strawberries in a microwave is a good idea because he likes his fruits warm. Mark is your best friend who's scared of cockroaches so how come he's a hero whose powers came from a spider? Mark is not Spiderman--''
Wrong. Absolutely Wrong.
Your claims got debunked right after you lay them down. You're absolutely fucking wrong.
The superhero whom you got to meet earlier, now stands in front of you once again. Hissing at what seemed to be a burn, unaware of the other presence inside the room, the mask comes off of his head, revealing the face the media and government would pay billions of money to see.
All this time, the jokes that Johnny and Jaehyun threw weren't all bullshit. Because the moment Spiderman turns out, the familiar chestnut shade eyes meets yours, effectively stilling both of your figures.
Holy motherfucking shit.
Spiderman IS Mark Lee.
''...''
''...''
''...''
''... let's treat your burn first.''
The hero nods like a puppy.
''Ouch! At least dab it gently. I may have powers but immunity to stings isn't one of them, you know?'' That only pushes you to dab the cotton pad harder on his burnt skin, earning a yelp.
''You deserve that after hiding this secret from us for how many years.''
''Who said I hid it from all of you? Johnny and Jaehyun have known about this months ago.'' Your glare scares the superhero embarrassingly. To be fair, it's not like Mark intended to let the duo know. It was accidental.
''And you didn't even dare to tell me, your literal best friend?'' You know exactly why he didn't want to risk revealing his secret even with those he trusts the most, you just don't know how to properly mask the worry inside you.
Mark, instead, smirks. ''Just say you're worried, it's not that bad to admit it, you know?'' He's right.
Your finger fumbles the cotton, eyes staring deeply to Mark's as you weigh the outcomes if you say the very sentence that lays at the tip of your tongue. The hem of your shirt moves, courtesy of Mark of playing with them.
Fuck it.
No one knows who leans in to who, all you know is that you desire to take more than the heat coming from Mark's tongue on yours. His arm wraps around your waist, flipping your position so you would be the one to lay on the bed, hovering your figure as his kisses travels down to your neck. Whimpers escapes your lips, hand threading the brown strands while the other feels the firm chest through his suit.
Your clothes soon flies to god knows where, the chilly wind bites through your bare skin but the flames of Mark's tongue licking every surface he can eases it. The lips comes back to meet yours one more time, devouring every area that he can reach. It's nothing like you expected to experience from Mark.
It's fierce, hot, and needy.
Wet sounds of kissing echoes through the silence of the room, rustling clothes accompanying it as Mark takes off his suit.
Fingers ghosting over the line that serves as an entrance to your core, your breath hitches. They entered Mark's mouth first, sucking and licking before pulling them out full of saliva just for the show. Finally dipping inside you, a sigh couldn't help but to be let out. It's deep, something you're unable to do whenever you're left to fend for yourself.
Mark gets on it, inserting one after another with little rest in between until he feels you're stretched enough for him. You pant, the angry red tip touching and tracing the line of your pussy, enough to send you desperate. So desperate that you whine and grinds your hips upwards to meet his length.
Caging you in his embrace, Mark's lips stays on yours as his cock slowly but smoothly slides past your opening, the veins rubbing along your walls enough to receive a quiet moan from you. There's a slight sting caused by the stretched of Mark's girthy dick but that's what you wanted, for it to hurt even a bit. In order for you could feel Mark fully.
''Good?''
''So good.''
Mark chuckles, observing your facial expression as he makes circles with his hips, hand caressing your sides in a comforting way. When he senses that you've gotten used to his cock sliding in and out of your entrance, he with no doubts quickens his pace. He starts fucking.
Screams of his name along with vulgar profanity fills the apartment, loud skin slapping fuelling the hunger for release. ''More, more, more-- fuck, Mark, please.''
The male grunts. God, just your calls of his name is enough to make him come. It takes him a lot of self-control to prevent his climax from raining on him quickly. With the determination of bringing you over the edge, his hips snaps harder, harsher and faster.
The way his tip gets caught on your walls before fully pulling out is hypnotizing. Hands gripping the pillow beside your head, Mark changes his angle a bit and that's when you scream his name loud enough for the neighbors to complain tomorrow. Mercilessly, Mark's bulbous tip jabs on your spot dead on continuously, giving you no time to catch some air.
His mouth attaches to your skin as he paints it with love bruises, a remembrance of your activity. ''Aah, shit-- are you close, baby? Are you gonna come around my cock? Tighten your-- fuck-- walls around me until I can't fucking-- aah-- breathe?''
You nod, chanting his name like a mantra as you plead him to bring you the mind numbing pleasure. Scratching his back, nails digging and creating crescent moon shapes on his skin-- Mark finds himself only getting closer to coming. His fingers wraps themselves around your wrist, placing your palm on the expanse of his neck. Mark groans when he feels the pleasuring grip on the sides of his throat, eyes rolling to the back as the perfect press sends him to his peak.
With your walls pulsating around him, white cream creating a customized ring for his cock, Mark thrusts once, twice, trice and a few more before he pulls out. Ribbons of white makes itself known on your stomach through the warmth it radiates. His head is thrown to the back as his mouth falls apart, moaning your name.
Minutes passes by and it was only then that Mark came to his senses, laying carefully beside you. Despite just having his cock inside you not long ago, Mark visibly stills when you wrap your arms around his waist. You chuckle.
''Any secrets you have that you want to tell me?'' Whispering against his shoulder, Mark gains the courage of placing his arm to hug you side ways. He smiles, staring at the ceiling.
''If I didn't know any better, I'd say that smiles means you like me.''
''Well, do you?''
''Do I what?''
''Know better.''
Giggles of happiness echoes the bedroom.
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It is night and your heels clicking the floor is heard along the quiet alley. You purses your lips, hands buried in the pockets of your jacket to hide from the freezing cold of the night. Eyes remaining to the ground, you steps comes to a halt when you sense another presence just behind you.
The shadow shows an upside down figure of someone, a strange yet familiar way. You turn around with no fear, smile of adore dawning your face as the sight of your boyfriend waiting greets you.
''Hi,'' Softly, you caress his upside down face. ''The people are waiting for you to save them, spidey.''
''Can I get my good luck? So I'd know someone is waiting for me to get back home?'' Chuckle rumbles on your chest as you pinch his cheek.
Your fingers tugs the hem of his mask, enough to reveal the naturally red yet slightly chapped lips that you love. Pressing a loving kiss, you hoped that Mark was able to decipher all the feelings you've put.
''Can I tell you a secret?''
You didn't wait a respond from him.
''I love you.''
You peck his lips.
''So damn much.''
You fix his mask and ensure that it wouldn't slip off of him.
''Be careful while saving the world, will you? I wouldn't know what to do if I lose mine.''
With one last kiss through the fabric of his mask, Mark vows that after helping the people, he will come back safely-- to his very own home, his own world.
2K notes · View notes
mirrrorballs · 6 months
Text
stars around my scars.
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pairing / peter parker!spiderman!josh hutcherson x gn!reader
genre / hurt/comfort, fluff! slight angst (?) established relationship <3 heavily inspired by a scene from tasm!
warnings / mentions of injuries, mentions of physical brawls/fights, slightly flirty/suggestive peter, i think that's it..
synopsis / after a long and exhausting day that left your head pounding, all you wanted to do was rest. however, stress and agitation ensues when a certain spider boy shows up at your window in the middle of the night with cuts and bruises on his face paired with his blood stained suit.
author's note / josh hutcherson is like stuck in my mind 80% of the time lately and i freaked when i saw his audition for the amazing spiderman! thought this would be a cute thing to write after my friend and i gushed over it hehe. obviously written with josh's (somewhere in the multiverse) peter/spidey in mind, but can be read with any other peter in mind as well. oh, and this is very heavily inspired by andrew's spiderman (if you know, you know!).
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You were exhausted.
Actually, exhausted was probably an understatement.
Your day started off extra early due to the construction going on next to your house leaving you absolutely restless.
Your brain was buzzing and filled to the brim with everything and anything. School, Peter, your internship, tests and exams, Peter, the news spreading around about villains terrorizing Queens, your errands for the day, your secret-keeping boyfriend.
As if you didn't have enough things to worry about, Peter Parker just had to be added to that list.
You knew the boy well. Well enough to know when he was keeping secrets.
There was something to him, lately. Something different. He looked pretty agitated from time to time, like his surroundings were being heightened by his senses or whatever. There was more, but for the most part, he kept his distance from you.
Needless to say, after the tiring and busy day you had, all you needed was his comfort, his sweet nothings, his touch. But that boy just seemed to go out of his way to avoid you. Your gaze, your close proximity, your everything.
With everything that racked your thoughts and with everything that you needed to do and accomplish, all you wanted to do was rest.
However, just as you were about to doze off, you heard a loud thump by the iron stairs next to your window.
You immediately jolted awake, turning your lamp on and taking pepper spray (from Peter, for your apparent safety) with you as you cautiously approached the window, silently wishing it was just something that fell rather than a burglar.
As you pushed the curtains away from your windows rather quickly, a confused look etched your features when you saw that spider-man from the news about to knock on your window.
His head immediately perked up when he saw you.
"Can I come in?" his voice was muffled through his mask and the glass window.
"Excuse me?" you asked, the unsaid I don't even know you evident and loud from your tone.
He quickly looked around as if to see if anyone was watching, and when the coast seemed to be clear, he took off his mask.
You immediately recognized the boy in front of you to be your boyfriend. Except his face was littered with cuts, bruises, and blood stains that seemed to blend in with his suit almost perfectly. Your face fell at the sight of this and you immediately opened the window.
He climbed in swiftly with one hand clutching onto what seemed to be an injury located in his torso. A look of worry covered your face as you gently motioned for him to sit on your bed before shutting the windows and pulling the curtains together.
You gripped onto the curtains of a moment longer to take a deep breath before turning around to face Peter, who had the nerve to stretch a smile on his face at you.
You sighed before opening a drawer for a first aid kit before making your way towards him.
Much to his dismay, you stopped a few steps away from him. His smile faltering slightly.
"What is- You're- You're that spider guy from the news." you said while waving your hand around as if to clearly address him before crossing your arms over your chest.
He straightened his posture before taking in a sharp breath.
"Yep," he said, popping the 'p' sound while looking down. He looked up and saw the look on your face that told him to go on. "I was bitten by this radioactive spider, during the trip to the laboratory. All this- well- this kind of just happened afterwards."
You slightly frowned. "That long ago, huh" you said with a scoff disguised as a laugh as you opened the first aid kit in search of a disinfectant.
Peter sighed. "I wanted to tell you. So bad. But I was processing what had happened- and then the villains started appearing, I really didn't want them to target you to get to m-" you cut his rambling off by placing a finger over his mouth. "Pete, it's fine, don't worry. I get your situation now." you said with a small smile before you began to clean the wounds on his face.
He could tell by the look on your face that that wasn't all. Guilt overtook him when he recalled all the times he was told that you were searching for him at school, the missed phone calls, or when he would see you with a stressed look on your face as you roamed the halls while he couldn't find the guts to walk over to you and hold you in his arms.
But you were here now. Faces inches away from his as you tended to his injuries. He couldn't help but lean into your touch when you cupped his face to keep his head in place.
Now that you were here, he felt the guilt slip away. Gosh, was he selfish for you. He hadn't realized how badly he missed you.
You started to place bandaids over the cuts. "Who even did this to you?" you asked, eyebrows furrowed with worry.
"Just this group of robbers. Didn't seem like too much of a threat until they brought out these bats." he replied with a small wince.
You nodded in acknowledgement before moving a hand to the side of the torso he seemed to be clutching onto earlier. "Are you hurt here?" you said, same worried tone and expression still evident as you moved.
"No worries, no cut or anything there. Just a pretty large bruise, I think." he reassured, eyes chasing yours as you still eyed that area.
He smirked. "If you wanted my upper body exposed so bad, you could've just said so." he said as you rolled your eyes and pushed his chest jokingly to conceal the blush forming on your cheeks, the smile on your face a dead giveaway.
He pulled you flush to him with that stupid smile on his face until you were standing in between his legs and your chest close to his.
You admired his face for a while, pushing strands of his hair to the side as you combed your hand through the rest of his hair in the process.
When your eyes finally met his, Peter simply couldn't help himself anymore.
He pulled you closer into him by the back of your neck and gently placed his lips onto yours into a soft kiss. Your heart was beating erratically. You missed this so much. You missed him so much.
When you pulled away Peter immediately spoke up.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you away, I shouldn't have kept things from you. I just didn't want to risk losing you." your heart was acting funny again.
"Pete, it's okay, really. You're here now, your reason is valid. I'm just happy I have you back." you said genuinely.
He smiled, and a comfortable silence engulfed you both.
He could see your eyes droop ever-so-lightly. Shoot, he thought. You were probably about to sleep when he got there. Guilt overcame him again.
"If you're tired and need to sleep I can go." he immediately stood up and took a step back towards the window. Though, he really didn't want to leave.
You held onto his arm and shook your head. "Stay. You still have extra clothes here from the last time you slept over." you said with a lazy smile.
How could he say no to you?
And just like that, the string that pulled you two together tugged stronger. Weaving your paths and lives together in the process.
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julia speaks. i got totally carried away and this got pretty long... i hope you liked it though! josh hutcherson holds my heart in his hands right now, I couldn't resist the urge to write him hehe. and as spider-man too! we were robbed of his spidey for real.
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headkiss · 1 year
Text
single thread (pt. 2)
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part 1, part 2, part 3
pairing: spider-man!steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: after the kiss, that string between you and steve seems to get thinner, shorter. you find out some things about him, too.
word count: 7.6k
warnings: spiderman!steve au, a little angst, fluff, injuries (most likely some inaccurate descriptions of them), idiots!!!!
a/n: part two is hereeee!!! thank u guys for all the love on the first one, i hope u guys continue to enjoy this one :,)
/ᐠ(๏‸๏)ᐟ\
If it’s even possible, Steve thinks about you more after the kiss.
Kisses don’t usually feel like that. At least, he doesn’t think they do because he can’t remember what any other kiss felt like. You were enough to erase any that happened before you came along.
It was the best kiss he’s ever had and he never should’ve done it. Being friends with you was one thing, but letting his feelings get involved… there’s no turning back from that.
He’s sure that if he said any of this to Robin she'd call him a dingus and tell him to ask you out, but he can’t do it. He can’t.
You wouldn’t know what you’d be getting yourself into. That is, if you’d even want him at all. The injuries he comes home with—more so than what you’ve patched up yourself—the things he’s had to do, all of it.
You’re too soft, too good, for him to weigh you down with it.
He likes you so much, he knows he does. He likes you so much that he doesn’t want to do anything that could end up with you getting hurt or being unhappy. If that means only being your friend, he’ll do it.
He meant it when he said he never hated you, that much is obvious. And he meant it when he kissed you, the way he felt. He felt brave then, he makes himself brave everytime he puts on his suit, but he’s afraid of this. Of being with you fully, letting you know the truth.
It's been days, maybe a week, since he kissed you and neither of you have brought it up. Steve’s been trying to figure out what to say, how to tell you he’s not sorry for kissing you but he can’t do it again.
Today, he’s decided he’s gonna try. He taps his knuckles against your door, all too familiar of an action by now.
“Just a second!” You call. Even just hearing your voice, Steve knows it’ll be hard to have this conversation and sound like he means it.
You open the door, hair pulled away from your face, “hi, Steve.”
“Hey.”
You’re opening the door wider and stepping aside to let him in before he even asks.
Steve’s eyes are as soft as ever, his smile shy, almost nervous. Looking at him, you still can't believe he kissed you, that he opened up with just a few words.
Never hated you.
“Everything okay?” You ask him. It’s early in the afternoon, and if Steve’s knocking on your door, it’s usually late. You wonder why it’s different this time.
“Yeah. Yep. I just wanted to talk to you.”
“Okay,” nerves bubble in your stomach.
“I kissed you,” the words come out in a rush, like he had to force them out, to bring it up.
“You did.”
“I’m sorry that I haven’t said anything about it. I just, um, needed to think about what to say.”
He sounds more serious than he has with you in a while. Since you started bringing him meals and he started to let you in. You twist your hands in front of you.
“I never said anything, either.”
He shakes his head. “I’m really glad to know you, okay? I just think, maybe, being friends works for us, right? And I don’t want to mess that up, so…”
“So we don’t kiss again.” You hope your voice doesn’t show your disappointment.
You like Steve an embarrassing amount, and when he kissed you, your heart expanded in your chest. A balloon filling up with air until, inevitably, it’d pop. Now, he’s letting you down easy and he’s being so gentle about it that it makes you wanna cry even more.
Damn him for being such a good guy.
“Is that okay?”
“Steve, we’re friends. Don’t worry about it. We’re good, promise.”
You mean it. It’s okay, he can’t help the way he feels and even if it’s not what you’d been hoping for, it’s not his fault you got your hopes up. You’d rather be his friend than be nothing at all.
You can squish your crush down, tuck it away and pretend like it doesn’t exist. You can do it because you were doing it before. It’s fine. It has to be.
Steve feels relief wash over him, though it mingles with some sort of worry that even in doing what he thinks is better, he’s still managing to hurt you. Either way, he’s said the words and his decision’s been made.
He can tell you’re biting at the inside of your cheek, a habit of yours he’s noticed. He knows you do it when you’re nervous or upset and his jaw tenses. He steps over to you and hugs you.
Steve rarely hugs you. There was that time when you cooked for him, and that was it. The rarity of the action tells you he means it, it matters. He’s so gentle when he does this time, his arms folding around your shoulders and his chin perching itself on top of your head.
You fall into his hold easily. You think you always will. Your arms go around his waist, cheek pressed against his shirt’s collar. You don’t think you’ve ever hugged a friend like this before.
So softly, quietly. Both of you breathing each other in and hoping the other doesn’t notice, wondering who’s gonna break away first.
Steve tilts his chin to press a kiss against your hair, his lips still against you when he mumbles, “thank you for understanding, honey.”
The pet name reassures you. Nothing has to be different, and you can be okay with that.
“Thanks for being honest. And I’m really glad to know you, too, by the way.”
Reluctantly, you pull back first, looking down at your feet as you do, too scared that your feelings are written all over your face.
“I’ll see you, yeah?” He still sounds nervous, cautious.
“We do live across the hall from each other, so…”
He huffs, it’s a barely-there laugh, but you’ll take it.
“Bye, honey.”
“Bye, Steve.”
When he leaves and shuts the door behind him, you fall onto your couch, head in your hands and mumbling about how stupid you are, how hopeless.
Steve’s senses can pick up the sound of your voice, the sound of your footsteps, he can pick out some words. Like ‘dummy’ and ‘idiot.’
He mouths the words ‘I’m sorry’ at your door.
He thinks, If whatever he encounters while patrolling tonight doesn’t, Robin’s gonna fucking kill him.
-
Things were awkward for a bit after that. Not enough to make you want to avoid him, though. He’s not someone you can let go of like that. He’s under your skin and he has no idea.
You’re standing outside his door with the dinner you’ve made him once again. You thought that maybe this would help make things feel normal again. Routine and friendly.
He opens the door quickly after you knock, shaking his head with a smile at the dish in your hands. “I told you, you don’t have to cook for me.”
“I told you I like doing it,” you hand him his food, and despite his protesting, he takes it easily.
Steve was relieved to hear you knocking at his door, relieved to see you with those same strands of hair falling around your face, the same shy smile you wear every time you deliver food.
“Do you wanna stay?” He asks.
“I have to go close at work.”
Steve nods. He knows where he’ll be patrolling tonight, at least.
“Okay. Thanks again.”
“It’s no big deal.”
Maybe not to you, but it is to him. Steve doesn’t want you wasting money or energy on him, but he can’t lie and say that it doesn’t feel nice to have someone care about him the way you do. To have someone actually want to take care of him, even in small ways.
He has Robin, of course he does, but it isn’t the same. He’s not sure his feelings for any person have ever been like his feelings for you.
He wants to do something for you for once, and when you go to turn around and leave, he stops you, “hey.”
“Yeah?”
“Would you let me cook for you sometime? Let me do it for you for once?”
You feel warm, your heart growing in your chest. “I’d like that.”
“Tomorrow work for you?”
“Tomorrow’s great.”
“Okay,” Steve has no idea what he’ll make, and he’ll definitely have to go grocery shopping, probably—reluctantly—call Robin for advice. That doesn’t stop him from feeling a buzz in his chest ‘cause he’ll get to see you. For longer than a couple of minutes this time.
This time, when you turn around, Steve lets you.
Your shift that night is slow and uneventful. Thankfully, so is your walk home. Even after weeks, you’re checking over your shoulder every so often, glancing up at the buildings in search of a superhero you’ve met once. One who probably meets people like you every day, who probably doesn’t even remember you.
Tomorrow comes quickly, and suddenly, you’re worrying about what to wear. Then, after making a mess of your closet, you’re standing in the hallway knocking on Steve’s door all over again.
For once, he didn’t hear you coming, too focused on making sure everything looked right, that he didn’t seem as nervous as he is. When you knock, he hides the cookbook he’d bought that morning in a cupboard before letting you in.
There’s a strand of hair falling over his forehead. That’s what you notice when you first see him. You stop yourself from reaching up and pushing it back.
“Hey, come in,” he moves aside and shuts the door behind you when you walk in.
“Smells good.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not!” You aren’t lying, but you would if you had to. If his cooking was awful, you’d probably have two servings to make him feel good about it.
He’s set up plates at the stools by his island in his kitchen. When he notices you looking there he speaks up, “sorry. I don’t have an actual table.”
You shake your head, “don’t be. Neither do I. You know, ‘cause we live in the same apartments.”
“Right, yeah.”
He gestures for you to sit down, and you do. He brings the food over, putting some on both of your plates before sitting down beside you. His knee brushes yours.
He waits for you to take a bite first, searching your face for a reaction.
“Steve, this is really good.”
He makes a mental reminder to thank Robin for the cookbook recommendation later. Right now, he focuses on the brush of his leg against yours, on the way you laugh softly at his jokes, the way your cardigan falls off your shoulder.
Steve’s eyes are on you so much that you swear you can feel it. You don’t even think he realizes that he’s staring, that he’s leaving a blazing trail wherever his eyes go.
When you look at him, you find his gaze easily, eyes meeting, saying things you couldn’t say out loud. You can't help but feel like this is more than just two friends hanging out. If it was, you probably would’ve gotten take out, and you probably wouldn’t be fighting hard to keep your eyes off of his lips. Especially when he talks.
Not a date, you remind yourself. Just friends.
Steve’s an idiot for thinking he can keep himself at a certain distance from you. He’s an idiot for ignoring his feelings and thinking that because he said you should be friends, they’d go away. It’s clear that they won’t.
He forces his eyes away from you and back down to his food, filling the tension with the first question that comes to mind.
“So, where do you work?” He already knows the answer. He’s jumped across buildings to make sure you get there safe and done the same for your walks home.
“Oh, just this small bookstore. It’s pretty quiet, but I like it there.”
“You like to read, then?” He knows this answer too. There’s a very full bookshelf in your living room.
You nod, finishing your bite of food before replying, “love it. Sometimes, when we have extra stock that isn’t selling, my boss lets me take books home for free.”
He can hear the honesty in your voice, the excitement you get when talking about something that makes you happy. He likes the sound more than he should.
Steve’s about to ask you something else when it happens; the hairs on his neck and arms standing, the goosebumps trailing across his skin, the ringing in his ears. Something’s wrong.
You can see the shift in him. His shoulders tensing, his eyebrows scrunching. You have to say his name three times before he hears you.
“Steve?”
His head snaps over to you, “hm?”
“Is everything okay? I lost you just then.”
“It’s fine,” he drops his fork onto his plate, his hands balled into fists. “I just forgot that I have to do something.”
“What?”
“I have to go. I’m so sorry, you can stay, finish your food. But I really have to go, okay?”
The last thing he wants to do is leave you, but he has to.
“Steve, are you sure everything’s okay?” You put a hand on his shoulder but he flinches away.
“It’s alright. I gotta go,” he stands and snatches his backpack on his way out the door, “I’m sorry, honey.”
And he’s gone.
-
You don’t finish your food. You’re stuck staring at the door after Steve leaves. It’s obvious that there's something he isn’t telling you, and you wish it didn’t bug you so much.
By the time you’re able to snap out of it, the food’s grown cold. No, you don’t eat it, but you try to occupy yourself by cleaning up the best you can without snooping through his stuff. You take as long as you can, hoping that maybe he'll come back at some point.
He doesn't.
The short walk back to your place is almost robotic, your mind in a haze, legs moving on auto-pilot.
You’ve always known that Steve hasn’t told you very much about his life. It's been clear in the way he distanced himself from you for so long, in how he likes to ask more questions, let you talk more. Still, you worry that it’s bigger than you ever thought.
You worry that out of all the seemingly impossible things you’ve wondered about what could be happening to him when seeing him injured, one of them is true.
It's worse because you like him so much. You care more than you ever should for someone that you don’t know all that well. You think you knew him best when he kissed you, when he wasn’t talking with his voice at all.
It was unguarded, like something had snapped, frayed enough to let his feelings seep through. You’d like to know him like that again. Just friends.
You sigh and head to your room to change out of the outfit you’d spent so much time choosing. Then, you do your skincare. Your apartment is completely silent, but your head is a roaring mess of noise. You finish up in minutes, though you feel like it's been longer.
It’s too early for you to go to bed, and you know you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you tried, so you head to your living room and sit on the couch, your knees tucked up to your chest.
You grab the remote and switch on the news, needing something to fill up the silence, to drown out your thoughts.
The headline on the bottom of the screen is what you notice first. The mention of Spider-man.
You rest your chin on your knees and stare at the screen, the rushed footage of that red and blue suit swinging across buildings. The screaming in your head of SteveSteveSteve fades to whispers.
You remember the sound of those webs that hold him up, the air that rushed through your hair and against your skin when he swung you home. You remember the feeling of his suit under your hands and the way the white eyes of his mask were expressive despite being fake.
It feels wrong to think about Spider-man as often as you do while wanting to be around Steve so much. It’s just curiosity, you tell yourself. He saved me and I can’t forget about it.
You’ve been subconsciously searching for him all over the place. Your walks home, the front pages of papers at newsstands. You look for his face—mask, really—and you don’t always realize what you're doing.
Still, when the segment about the hero ends, Steve floods back into your mind. Just like he always does.
He’s growing all over you, vines of ivy stringing across your being just a bit more every time you see him. You’ve never really felt that way, never had someone that you wanted to let so close. It hasn’t been long, but he knows you better than most people do.
You huff and get up to grab one of your books. You hope that the words on pages you use to escape so often will work the same way this time.
-
It’s late when Steve gets home, completely dark, completely quiet.
He climbs in through his window and showers like always when he finishes a patrol. He hates how he had been hoping to see you when he walked into his kitchen.
Instead, he sees that you cleaned up a lot of the dishes, that you were kind enough to do that even when he left the way he did. It sends a ping of something he has to ignore to his heart, a squeeze, an ache.
He doesn’t know how he’ll explain himself to you, because he doesn’t want to lie to you, but he can’t tell you the truth, either.
It’s completely fucked. He’s fucked.
-
Steve never really explained himself, and you sort of just accepted that. He’s not obligated to share every bit of his life with you, as much as you want him to. You want to be the person he’s completely himself with.
It’s selfish, and it’s absolutely not going to happen.
Things go back to normal. Well, as normal as they have been since the kiss. Rather than making him dinner, you and Steve take turns and have a meal together once a week. He’s finally convinced you to stop buying extra food just for him.
He’s even made a habit of visiting you at work when things aren’t too busy, and with every passing day, any lingering upset or concerns you had about his hasty exit that day seem to melt away.
He’s human, he has secrets, and you can only hope that they aren’t anything that’s hurting him.
The way that you seem to let things go unanswered with him make your feelings clear. You more than like him, you want to plant yourself on him the way he has on you, to be something to him.
Steve’s been trying again and again to keep himself away from you in a sense. To be platonic and be okay with that, but he’s smart enough to know that the hold you have over him is so much more.
He has no idea how you don’t see it all over him, but he figures it might be for the best. If he can’t hide it, at least you can be blind to it.
Today’s another quiet day at the bookstore. Business seems to be slowing more and more in the independent shop, and though you love the quiet, you’d hate to lose the place. The smell of the books and their pages, the section of used books with enough character to fill the space.
The first eventful part of your day so far has been the phone ringing, and you pick it up quickly.
“Hello?”
“Hey, honey,” it’s Steve, just like you’d hoped. “You busy?”
“Not at all.”
“Hungry?”
Somehow, his voice sounds even better over the phone. The crackle of it in the speakers, the way that it’s all you have to focus on since you can’t see him at the moment. It has a bigger presence.
“I could eat,” you say.
“That’s great, ‘cause I already ordered the food.”
“Steeeve.”
He can almost hear the smile in your voice, and if he shuts his eyes tight enough, he can see it, too. The shyness behind it, the way your shoulder will lift to your cheek. It’s cute.
“You don’t mind if I stop by, do you?” He asks, like it’s even a question.
“You’d show up no matter what I said.”
“But…”
“You know I don’t mind. You’ll be my first customer of the day!”
“What an honor,” there’s silence for a moment, and you can hear each other breathing on the other line. “I’ll see you in a few, ‘kay?”
“Okay.”
The phone’s hung up with a click.
In the time it takes Steve to walk (swing, but you don’t know that) over, you walk around and tidy up anything that’s out of place. You do this every time he calls to ask if it’s alright that he visits, trying to make the minutes go by faster.
You’re straightening books on the front display table when the bell above the door jingles, and soon after, a wide hand covering your eyes.
“Guess who.”
“Hmmm, let me think. Spider-man?”
You’re clearly joking, but Steve’s stunned. If you listen close enough, you can hear his sharp intake of breath at your reply. She doesn’t know, he convinces himself. She doesn’t know, shake it off.
“Ha ha. Very funny.”
Steve takes his hand away from your face and sets the paper takeout bag on the front counter next to the register, the bag crinkling as he opens it.
“Mmm,” you hum, looking at the spread of what he’s brought you. “You’re the best.”
He likes being called the best by you, and he likes the feeling he gets when he hears it. Like he’s someone important, someone good.
“Yeah, well. I’ve gotta make up for all of the meals you’ve made me.”
He always says that, and you always tell him the same things. “You don’t owe me anything, Steve.”
He absolutely does. He owes you so much. For the food you’ve made him, for patching him up and never pushing the subject, for being the person you are and bringing out the person he hasn’t been in a long, long time.
He won’t tell you that, though, so he just shakes his head. “Dig in.”
You do, and so does he, the white, cardboard containers spread across the counter. You talk between bites of food, the easy kind of conversation that isn’t very common, especially for someone like you.
You don’t have people, really. Steve is the someone you do have.
He asks you about the book you have sitting on the counter, and he listens to everything you say like he really cares. You bond over the poor water pressure in your showers, and you laugh at Steve’s impression of your landlord. It’s your favorite kind of lunch break.
Your shifts usually feel slow, but when Steve shows up, time flies by. Before you know it, you’re stacking the empty boxes and tossing them in the garbage.
“Thanks for the food, Steve.”
“‘Course.” He’s about to say something else when it happens again.
The tingling over his skin, the goosebumps spreading all over, his hairs standing up. He takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes, forgetting that you’re there to see him do it, focusing on his senses and where he has to go.
“Steve?”
Shit. He has to leave again. At least he made it through the meal this time. That’s something.
“Yeah?”
“Are you alright?”
“Perfect, yeah. Just, um, a headache.”
You don’t look convinced, but like you so often do, you drop it. Steve doesn’t know why you let him get away with so much, and he feels awful for it. He’ll tell you one day, maybe, when it’s safe. Just not today.
“I have some water, here,” you go to grab it but he stops you.
“That’s okay, honey. I think I’ll just head home.”
“Okay.”
“Have a good rest of your shift, okay?”
“Yeah. Bye.”
He grabs his backpack and heads out the door. You wait for him to be a few steps away and then you peek out the door, eyes following his figure on the sidewalk.
You see him break into a run before turning into an alleyway. You’re confused all over again.
-
Steve really wasn’t expecting it to be so bad this time, especially considering the fact that the sun’s still up.
He’d changed into his suit in that alley you saw him run into, hiding behind a dumpster and swinging off as quick as he could when he was done. He should’ve guessed it’d be serious by how strong his senses came on. Should’ve seen it coming.
He was a little busy thinking about you.
But then he saw what was going on and forced himself to focus. There was a group, maybe five, six people, who'd made some sort of enhanced weapons using electricity, and his superpowers, as great as they are, don’t protect him from the shocks those things could cause.
Not to mention how outnumbered he was. He knew this one could take a while. First, he focused on getting anyone in danger out of there, clearing the area until it was just him, the people with the weapons, and news reporters stupid enough to stay on scene.
He had to be smart for this one, so he used heights to his advantage, staying above them all while tracking them quickly. Steve also made sure they didn’t start heading in the direction of the bookstore, your bookstore.
The first two were easy to get, the ones that fell behind their group. Steve was able to web them up without getting too close.
It gets tougher after that. The others seem smarter, strategic, and he had to be better than them to make it stop. He takes a second to hide from them, closing his eyes and really letting his senses do the work.
When he opens his eyes again, things move in a blur.
He’s flipping and ducking, narrowly avoiding their shots, running harder than he has in a while. It’s the type of day that’ll leave him sore in the morning, he knows that for sure. Before he really processes it, there’s only two guys left to catch.
There’s a wake of broken and burning things behind them, but Steve can’t stop to fix anything until this is taken care of, so he doesn’t even look back.
Just as he tries to web one of them, they shoot at him, and the electric current collides with his web, sending a shock up his arm. A zap so quick, he couldn’t see it coming. He’s distracted from it, his hand shaky and it makes things harder.
After some swinging and punching, he manages to get one guy. In the midst of it, he’s lost the other one. At least, until he feels a spark of pain in his side. The electricity was focused enough to leave a welt on his skin, one he can already feel developing.
He’s too late to avoid the second hit when he spots the guy, ducked behind a dumpster, peeking out like a sniper. The same side is hit, and he knows another mark will prove that.
Steve has to rush around the corner to get out of sight and recover for a moment, a hand—shaking and sweaty in his glove—coming to hover over the burn marks on his suit.
“Fuck,” he breathes. The pain is sharp and hot, the kind that doesn’t go away until it’s taken care of. “Okay. Get the guy, and go. It’s fine.”
He grunts when he stands straight again, another noise escaping him when he shoots a web and swings around the corner back to the alley. The last guy is still by the dumpster, and Steve lets go of his web and lands close enough to knock him off balance.
The guy must panic, because he pulls the trigger on Steve and manages to nick his side a third time. From this close, the current is only amplified. Steve’s knocked to the side, but he manages to stay upright.
Get him, and go home. Do it. He has to push himself, and it has to be enough to finish the job. When he realizes that he’s closer to the bookstore than he was before, he clenches his fists and punches the man hard enough that he falls to the ground.
Steve webs his there, and then he slumps against the wall of the alleyway, his side burning, his breathing short. He has to get home.
He breathes out a deep breath and stands, shooting his first web and gritting his teeth as he goes up with it. He swings by news anchors and finds it in himself to mumble, “fucking idiots,” at them.
By the time he gets inside his apartment via the window, it’s dark outside, and he doesn’t know how long he spent wrangling that group. He’s a mess of panting and sweating, his suit scorched and his skin an ugly color.
He takes a cool shower and throws on a thin shirt and the first pair of sweatpants he finds. He has to sit on his bed for a solid ten minutes to make sure he doesn’t pass out the next time he stands.
But when he does get up, he heads to his door like the absolute idiot he is. He heads into the hall to find you.
-
You stand up quick enough to get a head rush when he knocks on your door. You know it’s him, that’s not the question going through your head. No, you’re wondering if he’s okay.
Your heart’s already racing when you open the door. It gets quicker when you see him.
“Steve?” Your eyes flicker all over his face, searching for blood or bruising. Anything at all. “You okay?”
Steve’s eyes are bloodshot, his forehead damp with sweat and the droplets of water falling from his hair. Even so, all he tells you is: “I just wanted to make sure you-” his face scrunches, he pants between his words “-you got home okay.”
“I’m good. I’m alright,” you say, though it’s obvious since you’re standing right in front of him. “What about you?”
“I’m fine.” He holds up his arm in a weak thumbs up and winces with the movement. You aren’t fooled in the slightest.
“No, you’re not. Get inside and let me help you.”
“Honey-”
You grab his hand gently, your fingers wrapped around his. You can feel him shaking as you tug him inside and shut the door. “Come on.”
He doesn’t really have it in him to argue with you, and as much as he shouldn’t, he wants to be around you, to hurt less because of your comfort and your soft touch.
Steve lets you lead him into your bathroom once more, watches as you bend down to grab the first-aid kit from the cabinet under your sink. He still has the bandages you gave him, and he’s lucky he won’t need them now since he’s not bleeding. He didn’t bring them with him.
You guide him to stand in front of the counter where the light is best and reach for his face, your hands holding his cheeks and tilting him down to you. His hands grasp your wrists, like an instinct.
There’s guilt in his eyes that you try to ignore. A frown tugs between your brows, at the corners of your lips.
“You look a little pale. What happened?”
“I can’t- I can’t tell you that right now.”
You push his hair away from his forehead before pulling your hands away. You bite the inside of your cheek and nod. You’re more worried about him right now; you can worry about whatever happened later.
Steve goes to lean against the counter. He grunts when his back hits it, his hand covering his side in reflex. You catch it.
“Take your shirt off.”
“Wha-”
“You’re hurt, Steve. I can tell. Let me see it.”
“I’m fine.”
“Stop saying that and let me see. Please.”
He blows out a slow breath and reaches for the hem of his shirt, because he knows you won’t let it go until he shows you. Taking his shirt off is uncomfortable, and he makes quiet sounds to prove it. He keeps his eyes cast onto the floor when he tosses his shirt aside.
You look down slowly, your eyes passing down his neck and chest first, then lingering on his stomach for a second too long. You’d never expect him to be built the way he is, lines of muscle under his skin.
You can’t focus on that for long, not when you notice the three welts on his side. There’s already bruising, shades of purple and green spreading, outlined in redness.
You swear you can feel something crack in your chest, the sadness that seeps into your eyes in the form of tears along your waterline. “Oh my god.”
He hates the way your voice sounds, the way your expression shows how worried you are for him. He hates that someone like you is so concerned about him.
“It looks worse than it is.”
“Steve.”
You kneel on the tiles in front of him to get a closer look. Your hands hover over the marks, too afraid to touch him, too afraid to hurt him even more.
Steve’s shaky hands grab yours, squeezing your fingers like he’s reminding you he’s okay, he’s alive enough to do that. You don’t look at his face, but he can’t look away from yours.
“What can I do to help?” You ask.
“You’re doing more than enough,” he says quietly, his voice a low hum in the air. “They’ll go away.”
Who could possibly be hurting him? This boy with soft eyes and a kindness even the highest of walls couldn’t keep hidden.
“I’m so sorry, Steve.”
You lean forward and peck the skin of his stomach, just beside the bruises. You’re not thinking about the consequences when you do it, you’re only thinking about how much pain he must keep hidden from everyone. About how much you’d do to make it go away.
Steve doesn’t know whether to cry or kiss you stupid for it. He settles on tugging you up to stand with his grip on your hands and leaning his forehead against yours. He’s not thinking about the consequences, either.
“Don’t you dare be sorry. Not you.”
“You’re hurting.”
“And you have nothing to do with that. If anything, you do the opposite.”
You squeeze your eyes shut to stop any tears from escaping.
“Will you stay for a bit?”
No, there’s absolutely no thinking about the consequences when you’re this close, when your hands are in his. There’s no thinking when Steve agrees.
“Yeah, honey. I’ll stay.”
You nod and breathe in, catching the scent of his body wash, and pull away. You have to force yourself to let go of him and move out of his way so he can put his shirt back on.
Steve has to stop himself from reaching for you when you step away. Instead, he tries not to wince again when he picks up his shirt and pulls it on.
He follows you out into the living room, sits beside you on the couch and leaves distance between you. He observes you as you pick out a movie to put on, thanks you when you toss him a blanket.
He feels warm all over at the way you seem to take care of him without thinking. It spreads from his chest and expands and expands and expands until it’s everywhere from his head to his toes.
-
Somehow, you end up with Steve’s head in your lap.
The inches separating you and him on the couch grew shorter and shorter as you spoke until your thighs touched. You both acted like you didn’t notice.
Then, the further you got into the movie, the quieter you both became. So quiet that you hadn’t noticed how tired Steve was until you felt his head drop against your shoulder. You were barely able to smile at the action before he jerked himself upright.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’re tired.”
“You must be, too.”
You shake your head, “not really. You should lay down.”
“I can just go,” he said, like that’s what you’d prefer.
“I’ve got a comfy lap, promise.”
Steve blames his tiredness and the haze of it all for agreeing and laying on his side, his cheek against the top of your thigh.
He’d never say it out loud, but he does feel really comfortable in the moment. He almost forgets about the bruising on his side. It takes a lot for him not to wrap his arms around you then.
“You can sleep if you want to,” you say, noticing the way his eyes blink heavily.
“Then you’ll be stuck here.”
That wouldn’t be so bad, you think. “I’ll go to bed when I want to. I’ll be sneaky, you won’t even notice.”
“As long as you wake me up if you have to.”
“Sure I will.”
Steve knows you absolutely won’t—he knows you’d rather fall asleep where you’re sitting and risk a sore neck than disturb him, because that’s who you are—but he doesn’t call you on it. Instead, he shuts his eyes and lets the comfort of your apartment, of you, put him to sleep.
You look down at him after a bit, and you notice his even breaths, the pout on his mouth as he sleeps. Softly, you run your fingers through his hair, pulling apart the tangles gently.
Without thinking, you keep doing it until the movie ends. You still aren’t tired, and you really don’t want to wake him up, so you grab your remote and switch it to the news.
They’re talking about Spider-man, you realize. They talk about him a lot.
“Today, a group of criminals with illegally enhanced weapons were taken down by none other than our city’s masked hero, Spider-man.”
The anchor talks in that classic news lady voice, one that would usually have you turning down the volume, but where Spider-man’s involved, you’re inclined to listen.
“We have some witness clips here, where you can see him in action.”
The screen switches to show a video that was taken on a bystander’s phone, the footage shaky, the witness dumb enough to stand there and film rather than run.
You can see Spider-man fighting someone, can see the quick flashes of webbing as well as the opponent’s weapon shooting. You can see how quick he is, the way his reflexes work. You think about what it was like to see it with your own eyes.
Then, it cuts to a new video, where he seems to be swinging away from the scene, but towards the camera. The anchor says something that makes your ears ring.
“It looks like there are some burn marks on his suit where Spider-man was hit. Three on his side, I’m being told.”
Three marks. On his side.
It has to be a coincidence that Steve showed up to your door after the whole Spider-man thing had happened with the exact same injuries, right?
Then, what if it isn’t? What if this is why he’s been getting hurt all this time?
You think about every interaction with Steve you’ve had. The day you met, when he carried your boxes without breaking a sweat. The way he tried so hard to isolate himself from you, the lack of details he shares about his life. The injuries he’s come to you with, the scars you’ve noticed but haven’t mentioned.
And most recently, the way he’s left in a hurry after zoning out for a minute.
You think your heartbeat might be loud enough to wake Steve up.
Steve.
You look down at his face, at the delicate skin under his eyes, at the way his eyelashes rest there in his sleep. You look down at this boy, asleep in your lap, and realize that he’s carrying all that weight by himself.
If you’re right about this, about him being Spider-man, you think he deserves even more than what you give him. More than the dinners and the company, more than the friendship. He deserves to be hugged, to be told how strong he is.
Fuck, you need to thank him, if you’re right. Because he’s the one who saved you, the one who brought you home and made sure you got inside, the one who reminded you to take care of your wrist.
Holy shit. That realization makes your head spin.
“Who are you, Steve?” You whisper. He can’t hear you, he’s fast asleep, but you ask anyway.
When you finally manage to lift his head from your lap and get up, shutting off the TV as you do, you head to your bedroom. You lay on your back on top of your sheets and stare at the ceiling.
You don’t sleep very much that night.
-
Cooking has become something to do to keep you busy, to take your mind off things. So, when you’re sure you’re not getting any more sleep, it feels natural to head to the kitchen and start making breakfast.
You move about your small kitchen as quietly as you can, the presence of the boy asleep on your couch something hard to ignore. The boy you’re pretty sure is Spider-man, the boy you more than like.
Despite Steve’s enhanced hearing, he doesn’t wake up due to any noise. No, for the first time in a long time, he blinks his eyes open slowly and lets the sunlight seeping through the window get him up. He stretches before standing up from your couch.
There’s a stiff ache in his side, which isn’t surprising, but it still has him cursing under his breath at the reminder of yesterday.
His voice makes you peek over your shoulder at him. “Good morning.”
Steve rubs his eyes and looks over at you standing by the stove. He has to rub them again to make sure he isn’t dreaming.
He walks over and leans against the counter next to where you cook. “Hi. Thanks for letting me stay.”
You give him a quick smile, a sunbeam.
You’ve decided to try and act normal with him, act like you don’t know this huge piece of information. He deserves the space to tell you in his own time. That is, if he’ll ever tell you at all.
“Yeah. You feel okay?”
“Bit sore. It’ll go away.”
“I doubt my cheap couch helped with that.”
“It helped.”
He sounds so sure about that, like it was the best sleep he could’ve gotten.
“Are you hungry?” You ask. You’ve already cooked enough for him, too.
“I don’t want to overstay or anything.”
“Steve, I’m offering. I’d like it if you stayed for breakfast.”
His stomach growls before he’s able to reply. You both laugh softly, you amused, him embarrassed. “Guess that’s a yes.”
Steve acts the same as he usually does as you eat, keeping conversations steered towards you, pretending like there aren’t bruises under his shirt as you speak. He seems to forget the powers that he has, the persona that’s a kept secret.
He wants to thank you over and over, to apologize to you over and over, to tell you all of the things he swore he couldn’t feel for you. He wants to tell you so much, but he’s scared—not nearly as brave as he is when he has his mask on—and he can’t get anything out.
Steve just wishes he could put into words exactly what you do for him, how unfair he knows it is to ask of you, how much it means that you help him regardless.
Instead of doing any of that, he eats the food you cook and shares more smiles with you than he does with anyone.
You watch as he takes his empty plate and rinses it off for you, the way his t-shirt is a bit tighter across his upper back, the set of his shoulders. Those shoulders that carry so much all by himself.
You’re frowning before you can help it. Not because he hasn’t told you, you can understand that, but because he must be so convinced that he’s better off doing it all alone.
“Thanks again for breakfast. You cook too many meals for me.” He lingers by your door, rocking on his feet like he’s not sure where to go.
“You sure you’re okay?”
Steve’s expression shifts in the smallest way when you ask. He can’t wrap his head around someone caring about him—besides Robin—to ask so often.
“I’m okay.”
Before you can really think about it you walk up to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You squeeze him as tight as you can while being mindful not to hurt him. Your face is tucked into the side of his neck, and he can feel your lips on his skin.
His arms seem to move before he’s aware of it, hugging you back around your waist, squeezing you just as tight. He needed this, he thinks, and somehow, you knew he did.
“I really care about you, Steve.”
He rests his chin on your head, breathing in the smell of your shampoo, shutting his eyes to try and capture how it feels to be held by you, to hold you.
“Me too, honey.”
/ᐠ(๏‸๏)ᐟ\
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